It's a Wonderful Cover Life
by Kate McK
Summary: When Sarah Walker needs a fake husband she decides that Chuck is her guy. And boy, is he ever. But he's not the only Bartowski who manages to bowl her over.
1. Chapter 1

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Welcome to the reread! Reading through the author's note below I see I'm quite the liar – A Common Spy Problem is on hold until this is done, I missed the 2011 deadline for this Christmas story, I didn't write much on my vacation, or at all this year for that matter. Here's to hoping that will change.

As I point out later in the story, the plot is from Borrowed Hearts, not Random Hearts. And I've seen It's a Wonderful Life, this fic is nothing like that movie. Speaking of movies, I've never mentioned that I don't own Monster's Inc. I don't, only the 3D blue ray I bought and watched on Saturday and I highly recommend it.

A few thank you's before we get started. To **iAmBixie **for designing this awesome cover, grazie mille. Also to **Nervert **who proofread the rewrite, thank you for working on this a second time. And to all you guys who are still reading and interested in the story, despite that it hasn't been updated in almost eight months. For those not in the know, you can follow comments and post questions on Twitter ('at'ItsAwCoverLife). If you follow this account I follow back, so DM's are welcome too.

Okay, let's get to it.

**A/N: **Wow, where do I start? At the beginning, I guess.

One, I'm still alive and so is A Common Spy Problem. Life had me stretched to the limit though, but two more working days and one wedding and I can call it a year. A Common Spy Problem has called it already and posting will resume early in January. For the first time in my career I have three weeks leave and two of those will be spent catching up on my writing.

Two, welcome to my Christmas story. This year it's a multi-chapter fic because I'm trying to catch the Christmas spirit early. The story is loosely based on one of my favorite holiday movies, Random Hearts, with random references of other stuff thrown in. Any parallels to It's a Wonderful Life aside from the title is a huge coincidence as I've never seen that movie. *Insert gasp here.*

Three, I could not have done this without the awesome support and assistance from two other amazing authors – Nervert and Quistie64. Speaking of our local ninja librarian, I just want to point out that, yes, that is a reference to one of her stories in scene 4.

I don't own Chuck, but I do own the DVD's, and I promise to educate the generations to come.

* * *

><p><strong>1. It's That Time of the Year<strong>

Big Mike scurried down the aisle as fast as his bulky frame would allow. Stopping short of the Nerd Herd desk he doubled over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath as he tried to get his wheezing under control. When he no longer sounded like he'd swallowed a whistle he straightened and clapped twice to get everyone's attention.

Chuck looked up from the cellphone he was attempting to fix.

"Look alive, people!" Big Mike's voice practically bounced off the walls. "Mr. Walker will be here any minute!"

A stunned silence followed the command, punctuated by the pop of bubblegum.

"Anna! Get moving!"

The petite Korean girl, whose hair was highlighted with deep red and green tones in the spirit of Christmas, slipped down from her perch on a washer-dryer combo, still chewing. Chuck averted his eyes when she neglected to make any attempt to prevent her too short skirt from riding up.

Big Mike groaned when he spotted Jeff and Lester slithering out of the home theater room.

"Patel!" he yelled across the store, "take Barnes somewhere for a nap or something. Keep him out of sight!"

Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but before he could string a coherent sentence together, Lester dutifully steered him through the back door in the direction of the men's room.

Big Mike continued his visual search. "Grimes! Where the hell is Grimes?"

"Right here, sir." Morgan came jogging up from the DVD stands, his green sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor.

"Go clean up my office. It needs to be spotless."

"But sir – "

"Now, Grimes!"

Chuck caught Morgan's eyes from behind Big Mike's back, but when the little bearded guy gave him a pleading look, Chuck could do more than shrug his shoulder. There was no arguing with Big Mike when he was in this mood. With a sigh Morgan turned to go do as he was told.

"And don't forget to dust Norman," Big Mike called after him, then spun around. "Bartowski!"

Chuck's head snapped to his boss.

"Sir?" he asked tentatively, mindful of the fact that no one had been assigned to diaper station duty yet.

"Why are the customers standing around like blind bachelors at a strip club?"

"I don't know sir," Chuck replied, barely masking his relief.

"Well, do something about it."

Chuck gave him a confused look. He was unofficially in charge of the Nerds, fixing computers and related electronics. It was the green-shirts' job to sell the merchandise and they fell under the supervision of Harry Tang, the current assistant manager. Not that Chuck minded helping out, but Harry was very territorial and if there was one thing Chuck tried to avoid at all cost, it was conflict.

"Oh, for heaven's sake." Big Mike grabbed the P.A. microphone and pressed the red button. "Attention. Attention customers. For the next twenty minutes everything in the store is marked down five percent."

It had the desired effect as people started to take more interest in the appliances on display. With a satisfied smirk Big Mike put the microphone back on the desk.

"These suckers don't even realize we've hiked the prices fifteen percent for the festive season."

Chuck didn't know how and if he should respond to that.

"Try to look busy, Bartowski," Big Mike barked a last order before heading to the front of the store.

"Actually I am busy – " Chuck started to say, but trailed of when he realized he was talking to himself.

Shaking his head, he picked up the phone he'd been working on. He was used to the situation by now, given that he'd worked at the Buy More for the past five years. Every time Mr. Walker stopped by for a visit Big Mike went all in a tizzy, putting up a show to convince the owner of the Buy More that the store was doing great.

As if the man couldn't read a sales report, he thought. Big Mike wasn't fooling anyone but himself.

Chuck gave the screw in the back of the Intel cell a couple of quick turns and was reaching for the battery cover when he heard the doors whoosh open. He looked up to see if Big Mike's moment of truth had arrived, but could only stare as a deadly silence fell on the store.

Then his jaw dropped.

* * *

><p><strong>2. Who's Your Momma?<strong>

Chuck had no idea when the Buy More had installed a wind machine, or why, but when his attention moved from the leggy redhead to her gorgeous blonde companion, he didn't really care. His eyes ran down her body, from her golden hair hanging in loose curls around her shoulders to the form fitting pink blouse tucked neatly into the slim waist of a gray pencil skirt that ended well above her knees, over her shapely calves and down to her six inch stilettos.

A clang snapped him from his stupor and he realized he'd dropped the screwdriver he'd been holding. Flustered, he stooped down to retrieve it and hit the back of his head under the desk on the way up. He cursed under his breath, partly because it hurt, but mostly because he was disgusted with himself for ogling the woman like he was Batman and she Vicky Vale.

Deciding to stay hidden to avoid making a fool of himself, he remained crouched, listening for when the duo passed. He heard Big Mike say something, only to be cut off with a curt "Not now, Mark."

Chuck was surprised, though he didn't know why. He'd been around enough pretty girls at Stanford to know how bitchy most of them acted. He wasn't the type to generalize, but some things were just proven to be true more often than not.

The store noises picked up again and Chuck reckoned the coast was clear. He crawled out from under the desk and pushed to his feet, only to be met by a pair of deep blue eyes. Startled, he let out a girlish scream, jumping backwards at the same time.

"I…uh…" He felt his ears turn red under the blonde's amused stare and in an effort to distract her from his odd behavior he raised the hand clutching the screwdriver for dear life, waving it in her direction. "Do you need something fixed?"

"Actually we just need some privacy for a meeting," the redhead answered. Chuck hadn't even noticed that she was standing beside the blonde the entire time.

"How about Big Mike's office?" He tilted his head in the direction of the manager's office.

"Plastic fish give me the creeps." She narrowed her eyes. "Is that a gnome wiping the desk?"

Chuck straightened his back, ready to defend his best friend, when the redhead suddenly grabbed his hand. He realized that he had the screwdriver pointed at them like a dangerous weapon and pulled out of her grasp. He quickly lowered his hand, aiming for his back pocket, but he misjudged the angle and nicked himself in the butt with the sharp end. He grimaced as a pair of green eyes glared at him for not immediately coming up with an alternative solution.

"Uh, you could use the cage," he said. "Nobody ever goes there." He gestured to the double green doors at the back of the store. "Through there, make a left after the break room and it's at the end of the hallway. You can't miss it."

Without further acknowledgement the redhead turned, but the blonde paused.

"Thank you – " She leaned forward to read his pocket protector. "Chuck."

She arched an eyebrow in amusement and Chuck frantically searched his brain for one of the witty comebacks that he used when someone found his name unusual, but drew a blank. The only thought running through his mind was a warning to not look down. He opened his mouth, figuring he should at least say something, but was spared from coming up with a reply when the redhead called from the door.

"Come on, Sarah, we don't have all day."

Sarah shot Chuck a smile, and he was pretty sure it stopped his heart from beating for a second, before joining her friend and disappearing through the double green doors.

"What did she say?"

Big Mike's anxious voice startled Chuck, making him jump for the second time in as many minutes. He tore his eyes away from the door and turned to face his boss.

"Who was that?" he asked, completely forgetting to answer Big Mike.

The big man scratched the spot just below his ear, looking perplexed. "It seems Mr. Walker has retired. That was his daughter." He shook his head in disbelief. "She's our new boss."

* * *

><p><strong>3. All is Fair in Love and Acquisitions<strong>

Sarah paced the small space that, much to her surprise, really was a cage. Outside the wired framework boxed appliances were stacked ceiling high. Inside was a desk and chair, surrounded by several dismantled computers and spare parts. She briefly wondered if the employees were actually locked inside when they were doing repairs and made a mental note to check with the manager, as that would certainly be in contravention of health and safety regulations. Then again, that was the least of her problems. She spun around, folding her arms over her chest and fixed her friend and corporate attorney with a deadly glare.

"Have you completely lost your mind?"

"It's a small price to pay to get rid of this place." Carina poked at a dusty microwave, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "What's the big deal anyway?"

"The big deal," Sarah said, "is that you told the buyer I have a husband and a child. And then you invited her to my house to meet my 'family'. Why would you do that?"

"I had to sell it," Carina countered, mimicking Sarah's stance. "Look, Beckman is eccentric. She's big on family and she will only do business with people who share the same values. I had no choice."

"That's absurd. Buying a business is about strategies and the bottom line, not my personal life."

"You want to get rid of this place, don't you? I don't see buyers lined up around the block. Face it, Sarah, the Buy More is a money pit. No sane businessman will touch it."

Sarah knew Carina had a point, but she was never one to give in so easy. One of the few characteristics she'd inherited from her father was his stubbornness.

"Which begs the question: Why is Beckman even interested?"

"It's a Christmas gift for her son, Emmett. I ran a background check on the guy. He's a total moron. Beckman Enterprises lost two major Japanese contracts because of him. Beckman probably figures that if she gives him something that's in the crapper to begin with, he can't screw it up any further."

"She could just fire him."

"Or we could just turn the Buy More into a parking lot and sell it off to Large Mart."

"That would take too long," Sarah replied.

Carina gave her a skeptical look. "It's a pity you can't put a price on sentiment. We'd make a killing."

Both of them were well aware of why Jack Walker had hung onto the store. It was where he'd met Sarah's mother. The college sophomore, selling stereos to make some extra money over the summer had fallen head over the heels for the Weinerlicious waitress. And even though Emma Walker had packed her bags and left her family behind fifteen years ago, Jack had been unable to let go. He'd thrown himself into his work, building the Walker empire as he waited in vain for his true love to return.

As if reading Sarah's mind Carina asked "Have you told him yet?"

Sarah didn't bother to respond. After her father had announced his sudden retirement, he'd taken the yacht and set sail to heaven knows where. There had been the odd phone call, but he left her no way to get in touch with him. Some days she felt guilty for systematically dismantling the company, selling the assets off piece by piece, but what did he expect? That she was going to pick up where he'd left off and let life pass her by while she ran a business she had no interest in? Besides, it wasn't as if there would be someone to pass the legacy onto. Though she was still figuring out her future, one thing was for certain – she had no desire for a white picket fence, which brought her back to her current predicament.

"Is there any way you can convince Beckman to change her mind about the visit?"

"I doubt it," Carina replied. "She sounded really excited."

"Well, that's great. So where am I supposed to dig up a husband and child by Thursday?"

Sarah still wasn't keen on the idea, but the Buy More was the only thing standing between her and getting on the first plane out of the country, and after everything that had happened lately, she needed some distance. Deep down she knew she couldn't run away from herself, but she was hell bent on trying.

Carina shrugged. "This is L.A. We'll hire a couple of out of work actors. Or you could rekindle things with Bryce – "

"Call an agency," Sarah cut her off, her tone leaving no room for argument.

* * *

><p><strong>4. The CanIndian Stare<strong>

_Sarah Walker._

Chuck rolled the name around in his head, a goofy smile on his face. Then it fell when he let out a resigned sigh. He didn't stand a chance with a woman like her. She was probably fighting off men with a light saber, or having the mean redhead do it for her. She wouldn't look twice at him.

Just great, he thought, it was the first time since Jill that he'd actually noticed a woman and he had better odds beating the Large Mart crew going solo against them in Call of Duty. Chuck was yanked from his thoughts when Lester dropped a box of invoices to be logged on the desk, inches away from crushing his elbow.

"Hey, watch it."

Lester turned to him, fuming. "Watch it?" His voice raised an octave. "Watch it? That's all I'm good for, isn't it? I have to watch Jefferson drool all over his office floor while the store is being taken over by supermodels. Supermodels, Charles. Don't you think I'd rather be watching that?"

"They're businesswomen, Lester," Chuck replied.

"Who look like supermodels," Lester pointed out. Then his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

Chuck recognized the expression. That look had led to the forming of Jeffster! And a weekend of scrubbing down every inch of the break room when a homemade beer concoction had exploded. And the careful reconstruction of Norman with crazy glue after the shark fishing expedition had gone south. Nothing good ever followed the CanIndian Stare, as Morgan had dubbed it. Chuck made a mental note to not let it slip that Sarah and her colleague were still in the store. If the Buy More stalker twins could figure out how to use their library cards for evil, interrupting a private meeting wouldn't be beneath them.

Lester folded an arm across his chest, and with his elbow propped in his hand, he tapped a finger on his chin. "You know," he said, "this could be the best of both worlds."

"What do you mean?" There was a hint of caution in Chuck's voice. He seriously doubted that Lester's next suggestion would include the words 'cover song' and 'Hannah Montana'.

Without answering Lester turned full circle, slowly surveying the store. When he faced Chuck again, he dropped both hands on the counter and leaned forward to look Chuck square in the eye.

"This is the ideal opportunity to get rid of one Harold Tobias Tang."

Chuck knew he was going to regret it but asked anyway. "How?"

"Simple, Charles, simple. I am going to sleep my way to middle management."

Chuck blinked. "Say what now?"

Seemingly pleased with himself, Lester straightened. "I am going to charm one of those ladies out of her panties and convince her to give me that vest." He lifted a hand and crooked his fingers in a small wave. "Say buh-bye, Tang."

Chuck wasn't sure if he should laugh or gag. Sure, he despised Harry Tang as much as the next Buymorian, but he preferred the devil he knew, and contrary to what his coworkers thought, he didn't hold it against Harry for getting the job over him. He hadn't made it in time for the interview due to circumstances beyond his control.

"So which one do you think I should go for?" Lester asked when Chuck didn't say anything. "Skip tells me I have a blonde and a redhead to work with. I prefer brunettes myself, but in this case I'm willing to make an exception."

And gag it is, Chuck decided. Just the thought of Lester making a move on a woman was nauseating, not to mention witnessing it.

"You know what, Lester," he said, "I think you should stay true to yourself. Hold out for that special girl. Work isn't everything."

Lester eyed him suspiciously. "Oh, I see how it is. You had the same idea. Afraid of a little competition, Charles?" Before Chuck had a chance to answer Lester was practically on top of him. "So which one have you decided on?"

Chuck kicked back in an effort to roll his desk chair as far away from his fellow Nerd Herder as he could to escape the overwhelming gefilte curry odor, but its back hit the counter behind him far too soon.

"The redhead," he said, desperate to end the conversation so he could take a walk to the Orange Orange as an excuse to get some fresh air.

Lester cocked his head to the side, studying Chuck from head to toe as if sizing up the opposition.

"The redhead then," he replied, confirming the challenge. "Bring it, Bartowski."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Well, that's it for chapter one. See you back here soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**IT'S A WONDERFUL COVER LIFE**

**A/N 2013: **This chapter was originally posted shortly before my niece was born, so if Cover Life was a child it would be walking and talking by now, and cute as a button. I've never understood that expression, or maybe I just buy clothes with boring buttons. Either way, you're not here to read the author's note, so let's get down to business, right after I've thanked **Nervert **for once again going over this chapter. Much appreciated, buddy.

**A/N: **Thanks so much for all the reviews guys, especially since most of you read this on the blog already, thanks to **Frea O'Scanlin**'s mention on CI. Who knew that outside of Team Bartowski, the CIA and NSA can work so well together? You've probably noticed that the updates here are longer than on the blog, which means FF is going to catch up soon. For those not already aware, I'm going away for a few days and won't have any internet connection or cell phone reception, so between Wednesday and Monday there will be no updates. I foresee one more here before I go and two on the blog. I might schedule a third one to post while I'm away. As before, I'd like to thank my partners in crime for their input – **Nervert **and **quistie64**, you guys are awesome.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>5. Good Intentions and Complications<strong>

Chuck grumbled under his breath as he logged in another one of Lester's invoices. He didn't know why he was doing the redhead a favor by keeping Lester out of her way, sending him on an outcall that came in ten minutes before. From what he'd seen so far, she wasn't even all that nice. Perhaps, he thought, he was doing his colleague a favor. Either way, he was stuck doing Lester's busy work.

"The road to hell is indeed paved with good intentions," he said to himself as he snuck another peek at the double green doors. He entertained the idea of asking Sarah on a date, figuring that the worst that could happen was that she might decline. No harm, no foul.

The doors suddenly opened and Chuck's heart nearly stopped, but it was only Jeff, and by the looks of it the guy had just woken up from a nap. Then again, with Jeff it was hard to tell. The only time the perpetually hung-over nerd showed any signs of awareness regarding anything not laced with alcohol was when he –

"Oh, crap." Chuck's eyes snapped back to the computer screen. He hadn't even thought about that. What if he asked Sarah out and she filed a harassment complaint? Could she even do that? He squinted, trying to remember what exactly Jenkins from HQ had said the last time he'd attended the compulsory annual seminar, but came up empty.

His shoulders slumped as he leant back in his chair. It was probably for the best, he told himself. His life was complicated enough. And, as if on cue, the universe concurred.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

Chuck jumped up at the sound of his daughter's voice and rounded the desk when he saw her barreling towards him. He hunched down to catch her and only then did he notice the tears running down her cheeks.

"What's wrong, Boo?" he asked gently. All he got in response was little arms wrapped around his neck as she sobbed against his shoulder. He rubbed soothing circles across her back and she buried deeper into him.

Ellie, who'd been hot on her heels, mainly thanks to the trainers she wore with her scrubs, had stopped just short of them. Chuck lifted a questioning gaze to his sister and she raised her hands in defeat.

"She wouldn't tell me either," Ellie said. "I'm sorry to bug you at work, Chuck, but she's been crying since I picked her up from ballet class. I've tried everything."

Like him, Ellie hated to see Maggie upset, even though she still had a pretty short attention span and they knew that whatever the incident was, it would soon be forgotten.

"It's okay, sis," he replied. He got to his feet with his daughter in his arms and glanced at his watch. "My shift ends soon, so she can stay here with me."

"Are you sure?" Ellie asked. "Wouldn't Big Mike mind?"

"He's a little pre-occupied at the moment," Chuck said. "So don't worry about it. Go home, take a nice long bath and we'll see you in a bit."

Ellie didn't have to be told twice. She'd just come off a fourteen hour shift and he knew dealing with a crying four year old was no picnic. She leaned in to give Maggie a kiss on the cheek.

"Be a good girl for Daddy, okay?"

The little head nodded, not leaving the safety of her father's neck.

After Ellie had gone, Chuck made his way to the break room with his daughter still clinging to him.

"Do you want chocolate milk?" he asked. "It always makes me feel better when I've had a bad day."

Again Maggie only responded with a nod.

* * *

><p><strong>6. Ballerina's and Chocolate Milk<strong>

"I'm telling you, Sarah, this is going to be a piece of cake."

Sarah gave a disbelieving snort and picked up her pace, keeping a step ahead of Carina as they turned the corner near the break room. The spirited redhead might be her best friend, but she had a gift for getting them into trouble, usually leaving it up to Sarah to bail them out. This was the last time, Sarah promised herself. If Carina's scam panned out, the Buy More would be off her hands by Christmas and she'd be free to live her life on her own terms.

When she passed a set of double doors, something caught Sarah's eye and she stopped abruptly before backtracking as soundlessly as possible. She glanced over her shoulder, indicating with a finger over her lips for Carina to remain quiet. The gesture was met with a questioning look that Sarah chose to ignore. Taking a step to her left she was at the perfect angle to see the break room reflected in the glass pane of the half open door.

**ooOoo**

Chuck searched through the small fridge, careful to avoid the mystery crisper. On a hunch he moved the six pack of Golden Annie and found what he was looking for. Before closing the door he debated whether or not to save Jeff from himself and toss out the beer. Then he shrugged. If Jeff could get past the stench and actually drink that murky swamp water, who was he to mess with one of Koch's few customers?

He crossed the room and sat down in front of Maggie who was perched on one of the round tables. Then he twisted the cap off the bottle and inserted a straw into the milk before placing it in the eagerly awaiting hands.

Maggie took a big gulp.

"Small sips, Boo," Chuck said, knowing from experience how difficult it was to get the brown stains out of a pink tutu. He waited until she'd swallowed and ran the pad of his thumb under her eyes. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

The little girl nodded, and just when he thought she wasn't going to say anything, she took a shaky breath.

"Miss Easton put me in the back row 'cause she says I'm too tall and I block the other ballerinas." The last word got lost in a sob.

It took Chuck a few moments to establish context. Then he gave her an encouraging smile.

"Can I tell you a secret, Mags?" He leaned forward, touching his forehead to his daughter's. "Real ballerinas are tall."

"Are you sure?" Her blue eyes were wide and serious.

"Pretty sure," Chuck replied. He settled back in his chair, grateful to see his smile mirrored. "And you know what's cool? I'm tall too, and so is aunt Ellie and uncle Devon. We can see over all those other ballerina's in the front, so we won't miss a second of your recital."

Maggie thought it over for a moment and then flung herself forward, wrapping an arm around his neck. His hand shot out instinctively to steady the drink she was holding.

"You are the best daddy ever."

**ooOoo**

Sarah almost fell over when Carina grabbed her arm and pulled her back around the corner.

"No," she said.

"What?" Sarah asked.

Carina folded her arms and fixed her with a skeptical glare. "You're smiling."

"Am not." Sarah quickly schooled her features, though she knew it was too late to play innocent. "Okay, fine. Do you think he's married?"

"If he's not, he sure got the raw end of the deal."

Sarah wanted to tell Carina that she was being mean, but that would risk another I-told-you-so from the redhead, and she had heard that often enough recently. Carina never let an opportunity pass by to remind Sarah that she had been warned about Bryce Larkin.

"He could be exactly who we need," Sarah said. "I didn't see a ring earlier – "

"You looked?"

" – but many married men don't wear them," she continued, ignoring the question and the fact that the hallway suddenly felt a bit warmer.

Carina started to say something, but Sarah preempted her, not wanting to explain why she'd noticed the lack of said ring as she had no idea why she'd done that.

"Get me his personnel file," she ordered more than asked and walked off before Carina could even close her mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>7. Five Year Plans Change<strong>

Chuck sank down on the couch and ran both his hands down his face. He was exhausted and it wasn't even eight thirty yet. Ellie sat down next to him and handed him a mug of cocoa.

"Is she asleep?"

"Yeah." He sighed tiredly. "She's so excited about the recital, it's a miracle I got her to sit still long enough for her bath. Of course then she insisted on giving me an exclusive preview while I was trying to get her into her PJ's." He lifted his mug and took a sip of the hot sweet liquid under Ellie's sympathetic gaze. "Oh," he continued once he'd swallowed, "she also stopped me in the middle of her bedtime story to ask me what a plié is. I had to look it up on my phone and ended up doing a demonstration because it was too hard to explain."

Ellie chuckled. "I would've loved to see that."

"Sorry, sis, it was a one time performance."

They fell into silence as they finished their cocoa and then Ellie gave him a pat on the knee. "It's going to get easier, you know."

Chuck shook his head as he returned his mug to the coaster on the coffee table.

"It's not that, I love every moment I get to spend with Maggie."

"So work?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah, Big Mike was a real slave driver today."

"Ah, I guess the boss stopped by."

"Yup," he replied. Deciding it was for the best to leave it there he turned sideways, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch, resting his head in his palm. "I did the math again."

"And?" Ellie asked.

He shot her a smile. "We're almost there. Another seven thousand dollars and I'll have enough for a sizeable deposit on a new place and startup capital. If I pick up an extra three shifts a week I should have the money saved up in no time."

"Chuck, that's going to take you at least ten months, and you're going to see even less of Maggie than you do now."

That thought had crossed his mind, but he didn't have any other options. Not that that stopped him from feeling guilty. Maggie was growing up so fast and he didn't want to miss a second of it, but he had to focus on the bigger picture.

"It's going to be over before you know it. Once I'm my own boss I can work around her schedule and my office will literally be next to her room."

Ellie wanted to protest, but Chuck raised a hand to cut her off. He knew exactly what her suggestion would be.

"I know you and Devon want to lend me the money and I'm grateful for the offer, but I can't accept, El. It's for your wedding. Besides, the two of you have done so much already, letting us stay here and helping to take care of Maggie, but I need to step up. I'm her dad and she's my responsibility. Pretty soon you and Devon will have your own munchkins to raise."

"Not too soon," Ellie said, "and we love having you here. And the offer stands. You just say the word."

Chuck knew better than to argue. Ellie could be relentless, so he quit while he was ahead.

"Thanks, sis."

"That's what family is for."

She gave him a smile and got up and collected the empty mugs. Chuck followed suit and started to gather the toys scattered throughout the living room.

Ellie quietly called his name and when he looked up she tossed a pink pig over the kitchen counter. He caught it in one hand and crammed it into the toy chest on top of the wooden building blocks, making a mental note to take it out first thing in the morning. Maggie had recently developed an issue about animals in cages, stuffed ones included, since she'd watched Madagascar, and she insisted that they should be free to roam. Of course they'd only become aware of the new quirk after a very eventful trip to, and subsequent two year ban from, the local zoo.

Chuck closed the lid and pushed the chest into the corner next to the entertainment system. He rolled back onto his haunches to get up, but froze when he heard a knock. His eyes widened and he launched forward, opened the toy chest and stared down at Mr. Oink.

He was losing his mind, he thought as he stared down at the lifeless toy. Shaking his head he dropped the lid back down. Almost immediately there was another knock. With a small yelp he yanked the lid open and freed the pig.

"Chuck," Ellie said from the kitchen, barely stifling her laugh. "I think that's the door."

* * *

><p><strong>8. When a Proposal Comes Knocking<strong>

Maybe she should've listened to Carina, Sarah thought, but there were only so many bad interviews she could handle in a day. Carina's argument, that using someone so close to the Buy More could backfire, held water, but they were pressed for time and none of the actors they'd seen had panned out. Either way, it was too late for Sarah to change her mind. She'd already knocked and the doorknob was turning.

She released her bottom lip from between her teeth when she realized she'd been biting it and consciously loosened the death grip she had on her purse strap. It was purely business, she reminded herself, and she had no reason to be nervous. She took a deep calming breath anyway.

The door swung open to reveal the man she'd met earlier and had shamelessly spied on. He was disheveled, wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt splattered with water and soap, and the curls around his ears were sticking out in all directions. Again she thought maybe she should've taken Carina's advice and auditioned more actors, no matter how sweet Chuck had been with his daughter.

The last thought caught her off guard, but she quickly shook it off when Chuck's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.

"Miss Walker?"

"Sarah," she said, apparently adding to his surprise as he stood speechless for a moment.

"Oh, I, uh…hi."

"Hi, Chuck."

His flustered demeanor put her at ease for some reason.

"Is there an emergency at the store?" he asked. "Please tell me Jeff and Lester didn't burn it down for real this time. I really need that job and I've told them how many times not to stick avocados in the microwave, because some websites claim that they'll explode, but Lester is convinced – " Chuck abruptly stopped himself and cleared his throat. "How can I be of assistance?"

Sarah couldn't help the amused smile she flashed at him when he'd gone from babbling geek to super professional in six seconds flat. She cocked her head to the side, giving him an opening to invite her in. He didn't take it. Instead there was an awkward silence and she realized that if she didn't push the conversation forward, there was a good chance that she'd be standing on his doorstep all night.

"I'm sorry for intruding," she said, "but I was wondering if I could speak to you about something?" She heard voices from inside the apartment and quickly added "In private."

"Sure," Chuck replied, though he sounded anything but. He glanced over his shoulder. "My sister and her fiancé are home, so perhaps – " He trailed off, gesturing to the fountain.

Sarah nodded and led the way, still debating with herself whether or not she should make the offer. Chuck kept a respectable distance when he sat down on the edge beside her and that made up Sarah's mind. None of the male actors could keep their eyes out of her cleavage, and she wanted to focus on closing the deal, not fending off unwanted advances. The children had been even worse – real spoilt brats that had made her want to strangle more than one of them.

On paper Chuck was perfect. He was single, his daughter was cute and according to his performance evaluations he was loyal, hardworking and trustworthy. He was just what she needed to pull off the con.

"I have a proposition for you," she said before she could change her mind again. "There's this project I'd like you to be involved in. It would take about two days, three at the most, and you'll be more than compensated for your time. How does twenty thousand sound?"

Sarah cringed inwardly. Nothing she'd said came out as she'd rehearsed it on the drive over, but then, it wasn't every day that she tried to buy herself a fake family.

"Dollars?" Chuck choked out.

She nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Wow." He blinked. "Okay, uh, I assume that includes hardware?"

Sarah's jaw dropped in shock. Of all the responses she'd prepared herself for, that was definitely not one of them. How could he think she would have to pay for _that_? She snapped her mouth shut, looking for the right words to tell him off when she realized she'd hadn't exactly been specific. He'd managed to jump to his own conclusion and she was curious.

"Hardware?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know, I usually do installations and repairs, and at eleven dollars an hour you'll be overpaying if it's just for services rendered. Plus you probably qualify for the staff discount, but you own the store, so I guess you don't have to pay if you don't want to because it's your profits anyway, but that's up to you of course."

"It's not an installation job or anything relating to electronics," she explained, relieved that Chuck's mind hadn't gone where she'd thought, and a little disturbed that hers had.

He scratched the back of his neck, his face a mix of disappointment and confusion. "In that case," he said, "I don't think I'm your guy. My skillset is fairly limited."

"No, you're my guy."

As soon as the words had left her mouth she balled her hands into fists to avoid slapping them over her mouth. Chuck seemed to have noticed her _faux pas _too because when she snuck a glance at him he was a few shades pinker than seconds before. Thankfully he didn't say anything.

Reminding herself that she wasn't an amateur and had actually negotiated deals before, Sarah decided to get straight to the point, which she should've done in the first place. She opened her mouth to clarify what she needed from him, but all that came out was "I need you to be my husband."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Useless trivia – Chuck's daughter is named after my car :) Have a great Sunday!


	3. Chapter 3

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **No long author's note tonight. I just want to thank **Nervert **for the rebeta on the reread and a special thank you to my network provider that's actually playing along this week. (I hope I didn't just jinx it.)

**A/N: **Hi folks, thought I'd upload this before I leave civilization for a couple of days. It's an extra-long chapter to make up for having to wait a week before I update again and because I haven't found time to update the blog. Speaking of which, this includes a previously unseen scene.

It's been a big day for the McKenzie family – the first baby of the new generation was born this morning. I've also realized that we describe babies the same way we do wanted criminals, by height and weight. That's a little disturbing.

**Just Chuck**'s review has prompted me to name my computers, so I've decided to name my netbook Mulder and my newest laptop Scully. Great use of Booth and Bones, JC.

To everyone who has reviewed, thank you very much.

Please give a big thanks to **Nervert **for the beta and the joke at the end of scene 12. And send him nagging PM's to finish the next chapter of Revenge.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>9. Can't Buy Me, Love<strong>

"Excuse me?" Chuck thought that he'd heard wrong, but aside from looking slightly uncomfortable, Sarah seemed to be deadly serious. His palms started to sweat. "You want to pay me twenty thousand dollars to marry you?"

"That's not what I meant," Sarah interjected quickly. "I need someone to pretend to be my husband."

"Oh." He blew out a slow breath. "Well, that's a relief." His eyes traveled to the front gate as he considered her proposal, and then snapped back to her. "Hang on," he said, "you want to pay me to pretend to be your husband?"

He probably sounded stupid, repeating what she'd just said, but he had to make sure he understood what precisely he might or might not be agreeing to.

"Yes," Sarah replied. "Like I said, it will be for two or three days, you'll earn twenty thousand dollars and get time off from the Buy More."

Chuck responded with a blank stare. The logistics sounded simple enough, but he had trouble wrapping his head around the concept.

"So?" she asked when the silence had stretched just long enough to become uncomfortable, "will you do it?"

Chuck finally blinked. "Why do you need a husband? Pretend husband," he quickly amended. "Is your mother in town?"

It was meant as a joke, but his question clearly jolted Sarah.

"It's part of a business deal," she replied, a little too curtly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – " He stopped talking when Sarah looked away. Ellie might call him clueless sometimes, but he wasn't too oblivious to realize when he'd poked the proverbial tiger. He decided to focus on Sarah's offer instead. All his financial woes could be over a lot sooner than he'd hoped and that prospect was very tempting.

He cleared his throat. "What would you want me to do?"

Sarah turned back to him and shrugged. "I've never done this before, but I guess you'd move in, wear a ring and do…husband stuff whenever the buyer is around."

"Okay, that sounds easy enough." He kept his tone serious so she wouldn't think he was mocking her. Like her, he had no idea what husband duties would entail, aside from the very obvious which he assumed the buyer was not going to be around for. It didn't strike him as _that_ type of deal.

Sarah smiled at him and like before his insides went funny. "Great," she said. "I'll send a car for you and your daughter on Wednesday morning and then when can –"

"I haven't agreed to…wait, what? You didn't say anything about Maggie being involved." He might have been willing to bend his own morals, but there was no amount of money in the world that could persuade him to get his daughter involved in anything sinister. Then something else occurred to him. "How do you even know about her?"

"I read your personnel file. I suppose I should have been more specific – I need a husband and a child. Is that a problem?"

Chuck briefly wondered if she'd read through everyone's files at the Buy More, that seemed pretty desperate, and he wanted to point out that choosing a random stranger for her scheme would probably guarantee failure, but he had his own concerns to address.

"Would my job be in jeopardy if I say no?"

"Of course not." She raised an incredulous eyebrow, as if he should've known better than to ask. "Are you saying no?"

"Yes. I mean yes, I'm saying no." A flash of disappointment crossed her face and Chuck cast his eyes down to his hands, clasped between his knees. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry, and I wish I could help, really, but I'm trying to raise an honest and responsible little girl, and subjecting her to…to what you're suggesting would be counterproductive." He shot her a sideways glance. "I hope you understand."

"I do," Sarah replied. She gripped her purse strap tightly and rose. "Thank you for your time."

She rose and was halfway across the courtyard when Chuck called her back.

"Sarah, wait."

She stopped, but hesitated for a second before she turned.

Chuck shuffled his feet, wondering what on earth had possessed him to do that. Then he stuffed his hands into his pockets and raised one shoulder.

"Do you want to come in for a drink? Or coffee? I've been a terrible host."

She seemed to consider the invitation, but then shook her head. "Not tonight. It's getting late and I still have a lot to do."

"Of course," Chuck said. "Maybe some other time?"

"Maybe," she replied, and before he could figure out if she'd meant it or was merely being polite, she raised her hand, giving him a small wave. "Goodnight, Chuck."

He returned the gesture. "Goodnight, Sarah."

* * *

><p><strong>10. Sister Knows Best<strong>

"Are you holding out on us, Chuckster?" Devon asked with a smirk.

Chuck, who'd just reentered the apartment, tried to keep a straight face. "What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about your hot lady friend, bro. You two looked pretty intense out there."

Though he liked his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Chuck still felt a little intimidated by the rock-climbing, river-rafting heart surgeon and was pretty certain that if Devon were to find out what had just gone down, he'd never hear the end of it. Life, according to Captain Awesome, was all about taking risks, and if none presented itself, to go seek out the next thrill.

Next to Devon, Ellie lowered the magazine she'd been reading. "Hot, Devon? Really?"

"Just an observation, babe." Devon gave her a shoulder bump. "C'mon, you saw her."

Chuck's eyes widened. "You guys were spying on us?" Now he almost regretted turning Sarah down. If he had his own place he'd have more privacy.

"We just walked by the window," Ellie replied calmly. She turned her attention back to her magazine and just when Chuck thought that he'd come away unscathed, she asked "So who was she?"

Chuck grabbed the first thing that came to mind. "A colleague from the Buy More. She's new."

"They sure make nerds pretty these days." Devon held his palm out to Chuck. "Up top, bro."

Without looking up from her page, Ellie grabbed his arm and pulled it back down.

"Well you're no fun," Awesome remarked drily. He yawned and then leaned over to give Ellie a peck on the cheek before pushing to his feet. "I'm beat. Don't stay up too late, guys, it's a school night." He gave Chuck a not so playful slap on the back on his way out. "And some of us have ladies to impress in the morning."

"I'm sorry about that," Ellie said once Devon was out of earshot.

Chuck waved it off. "It's okay, sis. It adds to his charm."

Ellie chuckled as she dropped the magazine on the coffee table and patted the seat next to her.

Chuck tensed. His sister might look all innocent, but the Spanish Inquisition had nothing on her.

"Humor me," she said when he remained standing.

He obliged, but not before rolling his eyes at her, which was a waste of energy as Ellie had ignored that means of protest since he was twelve. She propped her elbow up on the back of the couch and with her head resting on her knuckles she fixed Chuck with a look that made him want to squirm.

"Spill."

Chuck wasn't sure if it was because Mondays in general wore him out, or if the realization that he'd just turned down a substantial amount of money left him nauseated, but it didn't take much for him to crack and tell Ellie all about Sarah's proposition.

At first it didn't look like she believed him, and then she simply said "Wow."

"Wow I'm an idiot for saying no to twenty thousand dollars or wow you're proud of me for sticking up for my principles," Chuck asked.

"I'm proud of you for standing by your principles," Ellie replied, "but you are an idiot for turning down the money."

"Gee thanks, sis. That really helps."

"I'm not saying you should sell out, but think of it this way – that money will enable you to get your own place, start your business and have a nest egg to fall back on. And most importantly, you'll get to spend more time with Maggie. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"But in the process I'll teach my daughter the art of lying," Chuck argued, "which isn't something even I excel at."

Ellie was never one to give up easily. "Tell her it's a game. Maggie is still young. I doubt this will scar her for life. By next week this time she'd probably have forgotten that it even happened. How many memories do you have from when you were four?"

"You Rubik's cubed me," Chuck replied.

"You were seven."

"You yelled at me for breaking Mom's necklace."

"Five and a half."

Chuck decided it was time to play his trump card. "If you had introduced me to some random woman and told me to call her mom, I would not have forgotten that."

Ellie grimaced. "Yeah, probably not."

They sat in silence for a while, each with their own thoughts. They hadn't discussed their parental situation in quite some time and had even gone so far as to call off Mother's day after Maggie's arrival, deciding that it had been a sign to stop living in the past, but deep down Chuck knew that their parents leaving like they did was one scar that would never completely heal.

"You know what," Ellie said, "Maggie doesn't have to call Sarah 'mom'."

"I don't see a way around it." Chuck still had his doubts, though he knew his sister would never do anything to harm her niece.

"Well, I do," she replied, "and trust me, it will work. So the only question is: Do you want to quit your job at the Buy More before the New Year or not?"

* * *

><p><strong>11. Good PR<strong>

Sarah half-sat half-stood against the armrest of the couch, her arms folded and her ankles crossed. The scene in front of her would've been comical had she not been mentally ticking off every little thing that could go wrong.

Oblivious to Sarah's reservations, Carina turned on her heel, her hands clasped behind her back, and marched five steps past the house staff, lined up in front of the fireplace.

"Ms. Walker's husband's name is?" she asked for the third time by Sarah's count.

"Chuck Bartowski," the cook answered.

"And she kept her maiden name –"

"For professional reasons to avoid confusion in her business dealings," the housekeeper replied.

"But –" Carina prompted, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch.

"But she goes by Bartowski otherwise," the housekeeper added.

"And their daughter is called –"

This time the question was directed at the butler who, instead of answering, simply glared over Carina's head at the opposite wall. She took a threatening step forward, but he didn't even flinch.

"Casey –" When the warning tone in Carina's voice didn't seem to faze him either, she employed a different tactic. "The daughter who you will be babysitting if you don't cooperate –"

"Margaret," Casey grunted.

"Which she doesn't answer to, not that I blame her," Carina said. "What's her nickname?"

Sarah could see that Carina was enjoying the situation far too much. She'd always made an effort to ruffle John's feathers.

"That's enough, Carina."

"Boo," Casey replied, despite Sarah's effort to intervene. His normal gruffness made him sound like a ghost with a head cold.

"I think they've got it," Sarah said. She nodded to the staff, letting them know that they were dismissed.

"It's not them I'm worried about," Carina replied once they were alone. "Are you sure this Chuck guy will be able to pull it off? He looks like the jittery type."

"Chuck will be fine." The reassurance was as much for Sarah's benefit as for Carina's. She had no way of actually knowing that, but the wheels had been set in motion, and aside from calling the whole thing off, she didn't really have much choice but to push forward and hope for the best.

"If you say so." Carina didn't sound at all convinced, which only added to Sarah's growing irritation.

"Will you stop criticizing? We're doing this because of you. Six people are about to commit fraud because you decided to 'sell it', and one of them still has her baby teeth."

Carina lifted her chin defiantly. "It's not fraud, it's good PR."

"I don't care how you try to spin it, it's fraud."

"It's an innocent lie. No one's gonna get hurt. Beckman's gonna get her store, you're gonna get your freedom –"

Sarah cut her off with a disbelieving snort.

"See?" Carina waved her hand in a vague gesture. "This is why you're not cut out for the business world. You're not prepared to do whatever it takes to succeed."

"There are boundaries, Carina."

"Boundaries are meant to be crossed."

"Says the lawyer."

"Yes, says the lawyer." Carina smirked, knowing full well that she got the last word in as she so often did. Then she glanced down at her watch. "By the way," she said, "you're Mr. Right-for-the-Job is running late."

* * *

><p><strong>12. Boy Scouts and Muggers<strong>

Sarah had gone from being worried to being very ticked off. Chuck was almost an hour late, and like the previous four times she'd called, his phone went straight to voicemail. If he'd decided to renege on the deal, the least he could've done was let her know.

Carina's head popped around the doorjamb. "Anything?" she asked.

Sarah shook her head. She punched the 'end' button on her phone without leaving yet another message. The study felt stifling, so she rolled her chair away from the desk, stood and pocketed her cell. "I need some air."

"Do you want me to make the call?" Carina asked. She had already come up with a backup plan, stating in no uncertain terms that Bryce would do anything for a buck, as if Sarah needed reminding. It seemed to be the only option, other than to come clean and possibly lose the sale and tarnish her reputation, but just the thought of Bryce Larkin ever touching her again made her stomach recoil. And they'd still have the problem of being sans child.

"Not yet," Sarah said.

"Sarah –" Carina's patience was running thin as well. "We're cutting it very close."

"Just give him another thirty minutes."

Sarah didn't wait for a reply. She pushed past Carina and made her way down the hall. She knew she was probably delaying the inevitable, but there was still time. Another wave of anger flared up. If Chuck let her down, proving that her ability to read people had been seriously lacking of late, she'd make sure that he would regret it. No one was going to dupe her again. She grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and pulled it on before opening the front door.

Chuck skidded to a halt just in time to avoid barreling into her.

"I am so, so sorry we're late." He was out of breath, but that didn't seem to deter him. "Ballet rehearsal went on longer than I thought it would and I was playing games on my phone and the battery ran down and I tried calling from a payphone, but your number is on my phone which was a problem and I tried the Buy More but explaining to Big Mike why I needed your number didn't go too well and then he didn't even have it and I tried to get here as soon as I could." He stopped talking, but only long enough to inhale. "Scout's honor." He held up two fingers in some sort of salute causing the dry-cleaning bag hanger hooked around his thumb to balance precariously.

Sarah's bad mood deflated instantly. "Well, at least you made it." And no one would be calling on Bryce, she added silently. She reached over to save his suit from taking a possible tumble to the ground. Her knuckles brushed against the bottom of his palm and he jerked his hand away and wiped it on his jeans leg.

"Sweaty palms," he said with a sheepish grin. "Happens all the time when I'm nervous." As if to prove it, he switched the small suitcase he'd been holding to his free hand and repeated the gesture.

"Oh," was all Sarah could think of to say as she tried to ignore the sudden fluttering in her stomach.

**oooOooo**

Chuck had never been comfortable with silence, especially in the company of a beautiful woman, so when it seemed that Sarah wasn't going to say anything more, he gripped the duffle that was swung over his shoulder and nodded towards the door. "We should probably –" He trailed off, knowing it was rude to invite himself in, but as he'd understood it, they were pressed for time.

"Of course," Sarah replied and quickly stepped aside so he could enter. Then her eyes narrowed. "Chuck, where's Maggie?"

He sent a quick glance over his shoulder. "Still in the car. She fell asleep on the way over. I'll get her in a minute." He raised the suitcase. "Where can I put this?"

"I'll take that."

Chuck jumped when someone spoke beside him. He hadn't heard the other man approach and when he had to tilt his head back to meet the man's stoic face, Chuck wondered how it was even possible for him to sneak up on people. The guy was huge. And imposing, he added in his mind.

"Chuck, this is Casey," Sarah said. "He runs things around here."

Casey grunted in response and held his hands out for Chuck's luggage. Chuck just stared. A quip about The Sunshine Band sprang to mind, but he thanked his lucky stars that the words didn't pass his lips. No trachea would be a match for those beefy fingers. Prompted by another growl from Casey, Chuck handed over his daughter's pink suitcase with an uneasy swallow. The man took it between his thumb and index finger, a look of distaste flashing across his face as if he realized it made him look like Barbie's bellhop. Then the glare fell on Chuck's duffle and he surrendered it, wondering if this was what it felt like to be mugged.

* * *

><p><strong>13. Time to Measure Up<strong>

It served him right, Chuck thought as he shifted from one foot to the other and back again. The redhead, who Sarah had introduced as Carina, circled a little too closely, studying him from his mop of brown curls down to his worn chucks. He flashed back to a few days earlier, when Sarah had first entered the Buy More, and wondered if this was payback for him eyeing her like a predator. Of course he'd been more subtle about it, and she wasn't even aware of what he'd done, but that was beside the point. He wanted to apologize, but couldn't really do that without admitting his wrongdoing, so instead he vowed to help her out the best he could. Sure, she was paying him, but it never hurt to stack up some karma points. That was the only reason he was trying his best not to squirm.

"Can you work with this?" Carina asked. Technically she was talking to the Wookie on Chuck's shirt, but he assumed the question wasn't directed at him.

"_Sí_," Signor Anthony, the tailor, replied. Then the gray-haired man crossed the room and joined Carina inside what Chuck had always thought of as his personal space. He inserted two fingers into the waistband of Chuck's jeans and tugged. "Slim waist," he remarked with a heavy Italian accent. "Many _la donna _would kill for that."

Carina snickered at that, but Chuck chose to ignore her. Instead he focused on Signor Anthony, kneeling down in front of him, or more specifically, the measuring tape he'd whipped out of his pocket. He eyed the wrinkly fingers with growing unease as they traced a path up his leg, and when they brushed over his mid-thigh, showing no signs of stopping, Chuck flinched into a Morgan with a surprised "hi-oh".

"Is this really necessary? I brought a suit."

"Is it Armani?" Carina asked, her tone indicating that she already knew the answer.

"No," Chuck replied without missing a beat, "it's my Dad's."

Carina opened her mouth only to close it again without uttering a sound. Twice. Chuck had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain from grinning, but she must have noticed as she shot him a baleful glare before storming out of the room.

"Well played, Signor." The old man nodded solemnly.

"Yeah, but she's going to make me pay for that, isn't she?"

"_Sí_," Signor Anthony replied needlessly while rummaging through the clothes hanging on a portable rail. He unhooked a pair of pants, ran his fingers along the material as he measured it with his eyes and then turned back to face Chuck.

"Now business," he said. "Drop your pants please."

* * *

><p><strong>14. Stepping on Designer Toes<strong>

Carina tore into the kitchen and threw open the fridge door. She stared at the contents and huffed. "Don't you have anything stronger than sissy beer and milk?"

"Chuck likes Corona," Sarah replied without looking up from the papers she'd been studying. "Besides," she said, and then paused to tick an item off the list, "it's a little early to start hitting the booze. Ask Lou to make you some tea."

"I don't want tea." Carina slammed the door shut and spun around. She leaned across the table and grabbed the papers from Sarah's hand. "And seeing as you're such an expert on Chuck, you go deal with him. He's being impossible."

"It takes one to know one," Sarah said and slid her pen across to Carina. "The menu is almost done. Let Casey know which wines to get from the cellar and pick a dessert. No nuts, Beckman's allergic and I'm not putting myself through this just to have her die on me."

She rose from her seat, pretending not to notice that her calm demeanor was adding to the redhead's frustrations. She was also prepared to lie about doing it on purpose. Payback was necessary sometimes.

Halfway to the door Sarah stopped and turned, smiling sweetly at Carina. "The seating plan needs to be finalized too."

"Just so you know," Carina called after her, "Chuck and I will be sitting very far apart."

"Great," Sarah called back, "see if you can make it different rooms."

Sarah found Chuck in his room, balancing Maggie on one knee while he tied her hair up into a ponytail. She knocked on the open door. "Mind if I come in?"

"No, we're decent." Chuck winked at Maggie, getting a snicker in return. He ran the brush through her brown locks one last time and placed it on the bed beside him. The little girl lifted her arms and Chuck circled one around her torso as they both rose to meet Sarah. "Boo," he said, "this is Kitty."

"Like Monster's Inc.?" she asked.

"Exactly like Monster's Inc.," Chuck replied.

"It's nice to meet you, Maggie," Sarah said. The nickname still seemed unfamiliar too her. She stuck out her hand, but Maggie just stared at it before her eyes bounced back to Sarah's.

"She's four," Chuck pointed out with the faintest hint of humor. "I don't think there's a set protocol for this sort of thing."

"Oh." Not knowing what to do with her hands, Sarah tucked them into her back pockets, doing her best to hide her discomfort. She hadn't been around kids since she actually was one. Unsure of how to act, she looked to Chuck for help.

He seemed to understand her silent plea and he bent his head to whisper something into Maggie's ear. She craned her head and when he nodded at her, she turned back to Sarah and offered her hand.

"It's nice to meet you too, Kitty," she said shyly.

Sarah gently shook the proffered hand as her eyes met Chuck's over Maggie's head. He raised his shoulder a fraction.

"She should learn at some point." He lowered Maggie to the ground and she ran back to the bed to retrieve a pink pig. With the stuffed animal tucked securely under her arm, she slipped her hand into Chuck's, but her eyes remained fixed on Sarah.

Sarah had no idea what the little girl found so interesting and she surreptitiously glanced down the front of her blouse to see if she had perhaps spilled something on herself. She hadn't, which made Maggie fascination all the more baffling.

"Would you two like to see the rest of the house?" Sarah asked in an attempt to draw the attention away from herself.

"Good idea," Chuck replied. "I wouldn't want to direct Mrs. Beckman to a hall closet is she asks for the bathroom."

"I will point out every bathroom and hall closet," Sarah promised.

The tour was restricted to the ground floor of the mansion. The west wing comprised of the guest suite where Beckman would be staying. It was separated from the rest of the floor by the staircase, leading up to a small sitting area on the landing, cordoned off with floor to ceiling bookcases. Sarah took them in the opposite direction and made sure Chuck learned every route to the kitchen, dining room and reception area. Maggie made it as far as the kitchen and stayed behind with Lou who fixed her a snack.

"Impressive," Chuck said when they ended in the living room. "Everything is so –"

"So?" Sarah prompted when he didn't continue.

Chuck hesitated for a second. "Everything is so neat and…designer."

Sarah cocked her head to the side and frowned. "Designer?"

"Yeah, you know –" Chuck made a vague gesture. "Everything is just so…perfect."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Sure, she had her interior decorator fly in from New York once a year to update the décor, but she never thought there was something wrong with that.

"No, no, not at all." Chuck's eyes swept through the room again. "It's a lovely house, really…it's just…it doesn't look like a family lives here. It barely looks like you live here."

"Well, I happen to like it," Sarah said. Truthfully she's never really thought about it – Grace normally came in, did her thing and Sarah wrote a check. Chuck's comment had put her on the defensive, though she didn't know why she cared about his opinion one way or the other.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So can anyone name the sitcom referenced? It's easy, I even gave you two clues :) Have a good week, everyone.


	4. Chapter 4

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Wow, thank you for all the feedback, guys, you are truly awesome. Speaking of awesome, thy name if **Nervert** – thank you for the super fast beta on this one. And in case you missed it, **Revenge of the Bartowski **is ba-ack. Make sure to check it out.

This is our last reread for the week. Meet us back here Monday for chapter 5. Happy reading!

**A/N: **As promised, this is back. What I can't promise however, is that you'll be able to read the Christmas chapters on Christmas day. My trip has thrown my writing and posting schedules out a bit, but I'm sure you won't mind if this story only finishes the first/second week in the New Year. Who said we're supposed to lose the Christmas spirit on 26 December? Anyway, for those who keep track of these types of things, there's another 8 chapters to this story.

As always, credit goes to **Nervert** for sorting out my grammar gremlins and his awesome suggestions and to **quistie64 **for making sure I don't screw up my kid. Maggie thanks you.

Lastly, it was great to come back from my trip to find some amazing reviews in my inbox. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave one, it's always nice to hear from you guys.

Now let's get to the story already.

I don't own Chuck.

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><p><strong>15. The Remains of the Day<strong>

Chuck was starting to regret that he'd ever opened his mouth. After some convincing, Sarah had agreed to let him 'cozy' up the house. Of course she didn't have any stuffed toys or board games lying around, so she'd sent him on an emergency shopping spree – with John Casey.

He swallowed a nervous yelp when Casey cut off a school bus only to slam on the brakes to avoid missing the turn into the Buy More parking lot. Chuck had stopped pleading miles before that he was a single parent who didn't want to leave his daughter orphaned. Casey had merely grumbled that he'd be fine as long as he held onto something.

Less than an hour later, they were back on the road. Now knowing what to expect, Chuck decided that he needed to distract himself. He tried focusing on the guilt of dropping a generous amount of cash at the Burbank Buy More's biggest nemesis, the Beverly Hills' branch, instead of supporting his own, but that quickly faded. He'd be quitting soon and it was Sarah who'd suggested avoiding the Burbank store and possible awkward questions from his coworkers.

When the black SUV took yet another turnoff on what Chuck was certain was only two wheels, his head snapped around.

"Don't say it," Casey grunted without taking his eyes off the road. "I know what I'm doing."

"Would it hurt you to be more careful?"

"Yes."

"Could you at least try?"

"I don't take orders from you."

"Well then you're gonna have to learn." Chuck had no idea where his sudden bravery stemmed from – perhaps it was the fact that Casey's hands were otherwise occupied – but when Casey fixed him with a steely look, he quickly backtracked. "What I mean is you're going to have to pretend."

That did not make the situation better. Casey's jaw tightened and the vein in his forehead grew more prominent. Chuck shifted a little closer to the SUV's door.

"Okay, how about this – we avoid each other for the duration of my stay." He ventured a smile in Casey's direction, but the big man merely stared ahead. "You know," he said, "your stunned silence is very reassuring."

"You stay out of my business, I stay out of yours."

Chuck took that as an agreement, though he suspected Casey just said that to get him to stop talking.

"Good." He puffed out a relieved breath. "So now we have an understanding that works for the both of us. That's good."

Leaving Casey to concentrate on flirting with death, hopefully without sealing the deal, Chuck turned his attention back to the scenery. When he'd driven up earlier he'd been too busy looking for the right address to really appreciate the magnificent estates that bordered on the tree-lined boulevard. Of course at the speed they were traveling he could only appreciate every fourth mansion if he moved his head steadily from left to right and then snapped it back to repeat the motion. It felt like watching a one-sided tennis match.

When a familiar gate came into view, Chuck swallowed a 'thank god'.

They circled the fountain and Casey pulled up close to the front door. Before he even had the engine switched off, Chuck was outside, standing next to the SUV. The first thing that caught his attention was Sarah waiting on the porch. He reached her in three strides.

"Is Maggie okay?"

Ellie always teased him about inheriting her overprotectiveness after complaining about it for years, but since he'd become a dad, he completely understood where she was coming from.

"Maggie's fine," Sarah assured him. "She's been playing dress-up the whole time you were gone. I told you Gertrude has a real knack with kids. It's a pity she only has one of her own."

Chuck heard Casey approach behind him, his 'watch it' grunt making him hard to miss.

Sarah smirked at her butler. "Don't worry, big guy, she's given up on trying to rope you into having more."

Chuck's head snapped from Sarah to Casey and back to her. Casey ignored them, juggling a giant dollhouse in his arms as he opened the front door.

"Your butler and your housekeeper?" Chuck asked once he'd heard Casey's footsteps ascend the stairs.

"Apparently the heart wants what the heart wants," Sarah replied. She walked past Chuck, patting him on the arm when he merely stared at the door, open-mouthed, and started to make her way towards the SUV. "Come on, Chuck," she called over her shoulder, "those toys aren't going to unload themselves."

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><p><strong>16. A Personal Touch<strong>

"Will you stop fidgeting already?"

"I don't fidget."

Sarah was fidgeting and she knew it. She'd thought she would have more time to mentally prepare herself for the charade they were about to attempt to pull off, but had spent the afternoon stringing popcorn for the Christmas tree instead. She had no idea giving the house a family friendly makeover would be such hard work.

"I don't care what you call it, just cut it out." Carina held up two pairs of strappy sandals for Sarah to inspect. "Black or silver?" she asked, lifting the appropriate pair as she spoke.

"Silver." Sarah reached out to take them, but then her hand hesitated. "Or is that too formal?"

"There's no such thing as too formal," Carina replied. She stuffed the shoes into Sarah's hands, took a step back and, with her hands on her hips, she studied her friend from head to toe. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

Sarah spun around, dropping her shoes on the carpet as she scrutinized herself in the full length mirror. The cobalt blue satin hugged her curves intimately, flared out to the bottom and ended just above her knee. She tugged at the mermaid straps, wondering if the V-neck was perhaps cut too low. She turned to ask Carina's opinion, but the redhead beat her to the punch.

"The dress is fine. I'm talking about you."

"What about me?" Sarah asked.

"First you fidget, then you second guess your choice of shoes, something you never do, and now you seem to be rethinking the dress. Whatever happened to following your instincts?"

Bryce happened, Sarah thought, but didn't say it. They had a business deal to concentrate on and the last thing she needed was another I-told-you-so.

"I was asking for your opinion because I want to make a good impression," Sarah said. She retrieved her sandals, slipped them on and propped her foot up on a nearby chair to fasten the straps.

"And who exactly do you want to make this impression on?"

Deciding that she won't be baited, Sarah switched feet, taking her time to thread the thin leather strip through the buckle.

Carina smirked. "Nerd got your tongue?"

Biting back a snarky comeback, Sarah checked her watch. "Beckman's plane lands in half an hour. Shouldn't you get going?"

"There's plenty of time," Carina replied, following Sarah over to the dresser. She rummaged through the jewelry box while Sarah checked her make-up. Finding a pair of suitable earrings, she placed them in front of Sarah. "Speaking of first impressions," she said, "I think you should kiss Chuck."

It was sheer luck that Sarah didn't poke herself in the eye with the mascara brush. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. The two of you are like Beauty and the Geek. I bet if you touch him you'll break him, then Beckman will know something's up. Think of it as practice."

"Chuck is fine with me touching him," Sarah replied, realizing belated how that sounded. "I doubt Beckman is expecting us to make out in front of her to prove we are what we say we are. What she would expect is to be fetched from the airport on time."

"Yeah, yeah, you've said that already. I still think we should send Casey –"

Sarah cut her short. "We're going for the personal touch, remember? Hence the family dinner and sleepover." She grabbed Carina's clutch from the dresser and tossed it at her along with a this-was-your-idea look.

Carina's expression turned sour. "Fine, but I'm taking the Porsche."

"Your Mercedes has more trunk space." Carina knew no one touched Sarah's baby, yet she'd never let a chance go by without trying to get her hands on the keys.

"Working for you is such a pain sometimes," Carina shot over her shoulder.

"Which is why the job comes with excellent health insurance."

Sarah smiled to herself when Carina almost didn't slam the bedroom door. It was rare that she got the last word in. Not that she kept score, because despite the occasional squabble, Sarah knew that Carina would always have her back, and vice versa.

* * *

><p><strong>17. Second First Impressions<strong>

"Do you remember what to do?" Chuck asked.

"Yes," Maggie answered with conviction, nodding her head.

"Good girl." He straightened out her collar and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "Now take a step back so I can see how pretty you look."

He remained on bended knee as Maggie obliged. She did a slow full turn and then gave him a toothy grin.

"Do you like my dress, Daddy?" she asked. "Miss Gertrude says it's the same as my eyes, so it's okay that it's a boy color."

"I love it," Chuck replied, swallowing a lump that suddenly formed in his throat. Not so long ago held a tiny pink bundle in his arms, completely freaked out because he didn't have the faintest idea what to do with her, and now she was a perfect little lady. "You know," he said, "you're gonna break hearts when you grow up."

Maggie tilted her head and frowned. "Aunt Ellie says I won't break so much stuff when I'm bigger."

Chuck couldn't help but laugh quietly. "She's right, but a heartbreaker doesn't actually break stuff," he explained. "I mean boys are going to like you because you're so pretty." He wisely left out the part about him buying a shotgun.

She thought it over for a moment and then asked, "Daddy, was Mommy pretty?"

This threw Chuck for a loop. In the back of his mind he'd always known that she'd ask about Jill someday, but he wasn't prepared for it to be today.

"Are you guys ready?"

Neither of them had noticed Sarah stepping into the hallway.

"Uh-huh," Maggie answered when Chuck didn't, her previous question seemingly forgotten.

Grateful for being saved a difficult explanation, he pushed to his feet and took his daughter's hand. He turned towards Sarah, fully intent on sending her a silent thank you over Maggie's head, but when he caught sight of her, all coherent thoughts fled. All day he'd been trying his best to avoid looking at her, really looking at her, for fear that he'd start acting like an idiot and blow the whole thing, but he was not expecting _that. _He was well aware that she was beautiful, but in that dress…

A tug on his sleeve shook him from his stupor.

"Daddy," Maggie whispered loudly, her eyes bouncing between Chuck and Sarah, "she's pretty too."

"She sure is." Realizing he was talking about Sarah as if she wasn't there, he added "I mean, you look…you look amazing. Absolutely breathtaking."

Sarah briefly broke eye contact and Chuck swallowed audibly, thinking that maybe he'd overdone it. When she met his gaze again, her cheeks slightly pinker than before, she smiled. "Thank you, Chuck." She gave him a once over. "You look very dapper."

"What's dapper?" Maggie asked.

"It's how you tell a man he looks nice," Sarah said.

"But his tie is crooked," Maggie said. "Aunt Ellie always has to fix it."

Chuck laughed nervously at his daughter's unasked honesty. "Aunt Ellie is a perfectionist. I can fix my own tie. All I need is a mirror and a ruler and –"

"Chuck," Sarah cut him off before he could start rambling. She walked over and stopped in front of him. "I've got it."

**oooOooo**

Chuck made an indiscernible sound in the back of his throat when her hands reached for his tie, but Sarah barely registered it as she retied the knot. She was too busy trying not to notice how good it felt when his breath brushed over her cheek, but her heart rate increased when she ran her hand across the silky piece of fabric, straightening it against his chest. Then she made the mistake of looking up.

Their eyes locked and something passed between them.

_You should kiss Chuck. _

Of all the times to have Carina in her head, she thought. Involuntarily her eyes fell to his lips and her mouth went dry. She licked her lips, inhaling deeply through her nose. This was crazy, she told herself, like most of Carina's ideas were. Dropping her hand from Chuck's chest she cleared her throat and was about to step away when she felt his hand low on her back, his touch burning through the thin material of her dress. She hadn't even noticed that he'd made a move.

**oooOooo**

Chuck had no idea why he'd done that. He wasn't normally so forward with women, but there was something about Sarah that drew him in, and it was more than her looks. Plus she didn't seem unwilling, given that she'd initiated the situation. He had no idea why – in the short period since they'd met she hadn't given any indication that she was even remotely interested – but when she leaned in and closed her eyes, he decided to shut off his head and just act. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something though, and before their lips was about to meet, reality came crashing down on him.

"Daddy." Maggie was tugging on his sleeve again, shifting from one foot to the other. "I gotta go potty."

* * *

><p><strong>18. It's Show Time<strong>

Sarah refused to open her eyes until she heard Chuck's bedroom door click shut. Only then did she allow the embarrassment to color her cheeks. She'd almost made a complete fool of herself and that in front of a four-year-old. Luckily it didn't seem that Maggie had understood what had nearly happened, but she couldn't say the same for Chuck. She didn't want to imagine what he must think of her, throwing herself at him like that. Sure, he responded in kind, but he was a guy. It was different for them.

Shaking her head to clear her mind, she realized she was still rooted to the spot. Voices drifted from Chuck's room and she forced her legs to move. She didn't have the courage to face him, so instead she rushed down the stairs, grateful for the plush carpet that absorbed her footfall, and headed straight for the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisted the cap off and drank it in big gulps. The cold liquid had the desired effect as her breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

She turned just as Lou entered. "Miss Walker, your guest has arrived."

"Thanks," Sarah replied with a nod. A quick glance at her reflection in the metallic toaster confirmed that her lipstick was still intact. She ignored the fact that her eyes were shining brighter than normal. Just outside the kitchen she paused, took a deep breath and forced a smile before making her way to the foyer with measured steps.

Sarah noticed Casey first, almost doubled over as he helped Beckman with her jacket. Carina shrugged out of her own and held it to Casey who hesitated momentarily before taking it. He hung both on the coat rack, gathered Beckman's luggage and disappeared down the hall.

"Mrs. Beckman," Sarah said as she closed the distance, "it's nice to finally meet you in person." She offered a hand to the shorter woman.

Beckman regarded her for a full three seconds and Sarah couldn't help but be reminded of Sister Agnes, the ruthless Mother Superior from the all-girl Catholic school her mother had shipped her off to. Then Beckman smiled, shaking Sarah's hand, and the resemblance disappeared.

"Mrs. Beckman was my mother-in-law, rest her overbearing soul. Please, call me Diane." Sarah acknowledged the statement with a smile and a nod. "And thank you for opening your home to me. Hotels can be so impersonal."

"It's no problem at all," Carina interjected. "Chuck and Sarah are happy to have you."

"We are," Chuck said behind Sarah and she almost jumped. She took half a step away from him, hoping that no one would notice.

"Diane, this is Chuck." Sarah felt a bit silly when she realized she'd just stated the obvious, so in an attempt to mask her embarrassment, she smiled down at the little girl who held firmly onto her father's hand. "And this is Maggie."

Maggie stared wide-eyed at Beckman and then up at her father. Chuck smiled and gave her a little nudge, and after a second's hesitation, she let go of his hand and stepped forward. After a small curtsy, which Sarah attributed to ballet training, Maggie stuck out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Diane," she said shyly.

"Well, isn't she just precocious," Beckman remarked to Carina. The redhead responded with a slight nod and a tight-lipped smile.

Sarah missed the rest of the exchange when she felt Chuck inch up behind her.

"Give me your hand," he whispered in her ear, low enough for only her to hear. As she couldn't question him without drawing attention, she obliged and slipped her hand behind her back. "The other one," he whispered again. She swapped her right hand for the left, trying her best to ignore the effect his proximity had on her, the incident from the hallway still fresh in her mind. When his fingers brushed against hers, her instinct was to pull her hand away, but then she felt the cold metal of rings slip down her finger. She'd completely forgotten about that.

"Chuck," Carina addressed him, oblivious to what had just happened, "would you mind checking with Lou when dinner will be served?"

"Of course." He stooped down to pick up Maggie. "We will be right back."

Relieved that her best friend and fake husband were making an effort to be civil to each other, even if it was just for Beckman's benefit, Sarah was about to invite Beckman for a pre-dinner drink, but the woman never gave her a chance.

"I thought you had a boy?"

"Oh." Sarah let out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Maggie is such a little tomboy we sometimes forget she's a girl." The explanation sounded lame, even to her, but Beckman seemed to buy it as she simply smiled and excused herself to go freshen up.

"A boy?" Sarah hissed as soon as Beckman was out of earshot.

Carina just shrugged. "I forgot."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So did anyone spot the reference to a certain Sir Anthony Hopkins/Emma Thompson movie? It's cool if you didn't, it's quite an old one, but surely none of you missed the reference to **quistie64**'s awesome Chuck vs. The Sound of Music.


	5. Chapter 5

**It's A Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **Welcome to second week of rereading. As always, **Nervert** has been totally awesome in doing this beta on very short notice. Thanks partner! Now let's read.

**A/N: **Happy New Year! And welcome to the first update on FFN for 2012, at least, I hope I'm quick enough. The benefit of that of course is that you'll probably be hung over when you read this, which kinda makes me wish I was drunk when I wrote it. Actually, I could've been, but because **Nervert **has done his magic beta thing you'll never be able to tell. Also thank you to **quistie64** for your advice and support. I'll let you know when I get to babysit my niece so you can stay close to Twitter.

To all the readers, may the year ahead be awesome. On a sad note, we are losing our favorite show in a couple of weeks, but I'm sure I speak for a couple of fanfic writers when I promise that we will do our best to keep you entertained for long after that. Thank you so much for your continued support, it's a privilege to serve such an awesome community. Long live Chuck!

I don't own Chuck.

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><p><strong>19. Letters to Santa<strong>

Chuck cut off another piece of rosemary lamb and popped it into his mouth, all the while keeping an eye on Maggie to make sure that she ate her cheesy scallop potatoes instead of decorating her dress with them. He still wanted to take a picture for Ellie and wished he had the guts to ask Sarah to pose with her. She and Maggie's dresses accentuated their eyes and, in Sarah's case, a few other assets, and he briefly wondered if the color matching was planned or merely a coincidence. If, like Beckman, he didn't know better, Sarah could easily pass for Maggie's mother. The thought caught him off guard and he reached for his wine, swallowing both down. He couldn't go there – his days of casual dating were long over and Sarah was his boss, two very good reasons to avoid almost kisses and fake ring exchanges.

He ventured a glance at her, seated at the opposite end of the table. She was deep in conversation with Carina and Diane over the economy and the possibility of a second recession, a topic for which, aside from how it affected him directly, he had limited knowledge. At least no one seemed to notice that he wasn't actively taking part in the discussion, so he didn't run the risk of making a fool of himself. Neither did he have to pay too close attention to his 'wife', which could result in the same outcome.

Casey stepped up to the table to refill everyone's glasses and when he walked past Chuck, the big man grunted something that sounded like a warning. Chuck couldn't make out what he man was saying, but it wasn't that hard to guess. His eyes dropped back to his half-eaten dinner and he didn't notice Beckman's attention turning to his daughter.

"Maggie," she said, waiting patiently until the four-year-old looked up from arranging her peas in a crooked half circle on the bottom of her plate. "Have you written your letter to Santa yet?"

The little girl's face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes," she replied, "Aunt Ellie helped me. I asked him for a baby brother."

Chuck's fork hit his plate with a clatter and his head snapped up. That was _not _what Ellie had told him. He struggled for something to say and looked over at Sarah out of desperation. She was trying to hide her amusement behind her wineglass, taking a large sip, but when she saw his shell-shocked expression the implications of Maggie's words must have dawned on her too as her eyes grew wide with panic and she almost choked.

"That sure is a big gift," Beckman said, struggling to hold in her laughter.

"I know," Maggie replied, a little less excited than a moment before. "Uncle Devon says brothers are awesome, but it takes time to make one."

"It's not so much the making that takes ti–" Carina started to say, but cut herself short with a wince, which Chuck attributed to a possible kick from Sarah under the table. Again he tried to come up with a response to salvage the situation or change the subject, but Maggie beat him to it, unknowingly saving him.

"I asked for a pink bike and a Barbie too."

"Well, Santa doesn't disappoint," Beckman said with a smile. "You just have to believe."

Chuck jumped at the opening. "And be a good girl," he said, "which means you have to finish your peas."

Maggie's shoulders sagged as she picked up a pea between her thumb and forefinger and stared at it before reluctantly putting it in her mouth. She chewed for longer than was technically necessary to turn the small green vegetable into mush before reaching for a second one and repeating the process. By the fourth one, Chuck caved. Keeping his eyes on his own plate, he snuck a forkful of peas from Maggie's.

"Thanks, Daddy," she whispered.

"Don't tell Aunt Ellie," he whispered back. His sister would have a fit, he knew, as she always said he was a sucker when it came to getting his daughter to eat her veggies.

Maggie shook her head. "I won't." The last word got lost in a yawn.

"And that's our cue," Chuck said. He pushed his plate away and gave the rest of the dinner party an apologetic smile. "If you ladies will excuse us, it's bedtime."

He rose and helped Maggie down from her booster seat. She rounded the table and said goodnight to 'Miss Carina' and 'Miss Diane' – like he'd reminded her to do while he was dressing her earlier – before pausing next to Sarah.

"I'll be up in a bit to tuck you in, sweetie," Sarah said, preempting a possibly awkward greeting.

Maggie cocked her head and fixed Sarah with a curious look. "Why?"

Chuck reacted first. He let out a low chuckle, grabbing Maggie around her waist and hoisting her up in the air. "Always the funny one."

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><p><strong>20. Hallway Pass<strong>

Sarah massaged the junction between her shoulder and neck to ease some of the tension as she ascended the stairs. The night had turned out to be more stressful than she'd thought it would be and she welcomed the reprieve. Despite the couple of close calls, Beckman seemed to be buying the ruse. After Chuck had left the dining room, the older woman had even pointed out to Sarah the benefits of having a second baby and soon, especially since her husband was such an attentive parent. All she could do was to listen and agree, much to Carina's amusement. Sarah wished she'd kicked the redhead harder.

At Maggie's door Sarah stopped and checked her watch. At least they were almost done for the day – they only had to suffer through after-dinner drinks. She was about to enter the room when the door silently opened and Chuck almost walked into her.

"Sorry," he whispered as she stepped back, startled.

"No harm done," Sarah replied in the same hushed tone. She nodded towards the room. "Is she asleep already?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "I didn't think I was gonna get her down with all the excitement of decorating another Christmas tree, not to mention all the new toys, but she missed her afternoon nap, so that worked in my favor. Even bath time wasn't as messy tonight." He smiled, gesturing down his shirt, now minus the tie and with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Not a spot on me."

"Impressive." Sarah smiled back, remembering how he looked the night she went over to his apartment.

Chuck reached for the knob and started to pull the door shut, stopping halfway. "You didn't really want to tuck her in, did you?" he asked. "If I'd known – "

"Oh, no, that was just for Beckman's sake." She realized too late how that came across and tried to backtrack. "I mean, not that I don't…Maggie probably wouldn't feel comfortable, I am a stranger after all. Sort of." Sarah wasn't even sure why she'd come up to the room in the first place. She could've used the time to refresh her make-up or something.

"You don't have to explain," Chuck said. "Let me just get my tie and jacket and we can head back downstairs and Beckman will be none the wiser." He'd already turned towards his room when Sarah grabbed his arm.

"You look fine."

"But you said it's formal – "

"No, really," Sarah cut in. "You look – " Her eyes traveled down his torso and back to his face while she weighed her words. "You look at home."

"Good for the cover," he concluded.

"Exactly." Sarah released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She was not about to admit that she didn't want to risk redoing his tie. Besides, she liked the look. "Unless you're cold? If you need your jacket – " She trailed off, scared she might say too much if she continued.

"Nope, I'm good." Chuck indicated for her to lead the way. Halfway down the stairs he stopped. "Unless you want me to get my jacket so I can give it to you because you are wearing a lot less than I am."

Sarah, two steps ahead of him, spun around, her mouth agape.

Chuck raised both hands in defense. "That was so not what I meant."

She believed him, but was worried that he would slip up in front of Beckman. "Chuck," she said, "you've done great so far. Just keep it together for another hour, okay?"

"Okay." He dropped his hands and rolled his shoulders. "Let's get this over with."

Sarah stayed ahead of him, but slowed her pace before entering the living room. When Chuck caught up to her she slipped her hand into his. They looked at each other, both took a deep breath and forced matching smiles.

* * *

><p><strong>21. A Friend in Need<strong>

"I think we pulled it off. Who knew the geek had it in him?"

"His name is Chuck," Sarah said. She folded her arms over her chest to ward off the cooler air in the foyer and waited for Carina to pull on her coat.

"I'm trying to pay him a compliment."

"You could have fooled me."

"Well," Carina said, "the important thing is that Beckman was fooled. I was worried that the rug rat…Maggie," she amended at Sarah's scowl, "was going to give it away, but _Chuck _handled her like a pro."

"So I take it you're willing to admit that you were wrong about him?" Sarah regretted the question the minute she'd asked it. She could practically see the wheels in Carina's head turn.

"I stand corrected," Carina replied, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across her face. Her fingers that were tying the belt of her coat had stopped. "Hey, do you mind if I spend the night?"

Sarah cocked her head to the side and fixed Carina with an apprehensive glare. "Why?"

"For the deal, of course." Carina shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. "That way I can beat traffic in the morning and not risk being late for our breakfast appointment."

The mirth in her eyes, however, did nothing to convince Sarah. "That's lame, even for you."

Carina huffed. "Okay, fine. I think the nerd is kind of cute, so I figured I'll make sure he's not lonely. It is his first night in a strange house after all."

"Absolutely not." Sarah realized she'd raised her voice and dropped it an octave. "He's supposed to be my husband. You can't just…stay over."

"C'mon, Sarah, we both know you're not going to fulfill your wifely duties," Carina replied. Then she winked. "Even though you want to."

"You're being absurd. I'm not interested in Chuck. This is business."

Carina gave a disbelieving snort. "I saw the way you were cozying up to him back there."

Sarah bit back a reply. She hadn't thought anyone had noticed when she'd moved a fraction of an inch closer to Chuck after he'd casually draped his arm on the back of the sofa. There was no way of explaining that to Carina without her making a federal case out of it.

"I'm just trying to be your friend in need here, Sarah. All I'm saying is that you could use a good roll in the hay as much as he can. I seriously doubt he's gotten any since…you know." Carina jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. "He should be good, or at least grateful. Maybe a little eager even."

She smirked when all Sarah could do was stare at her in shock.

"Just make sure to use protection," Carina continued. "He was probably caught unprepared the last time and I'm not dragging a pregnant woman around Europe with me. They're hormonal and need to pee every five seconds."

Sarah finally snapped her mouth shut. "I take it back," she said. "You're seriously disturbed."

"So you keep telling me," Carina replied in a sing-song voice as she grabbed her purse with one hand and slipped around the door. Sticking her head back in, she wiggled her eyebrows at Sarah and mouthed "I want details." Then she shut the door before Sarah could get a word out.

Sarah took a moment to push Carina's taunting from her mind before returning to the living room where she'd left Chuck and Beckman. His face lit up when he saw her and the memory of Carina's sudden interest in Chuck started to gnaw at her. She had bigger things to worry about though, wondering what Chuck and Beckman had discussed in her absence.

"Diane was just telling me about her trip to Aspen," Chuck said, as if reading Sarah's mind. "We should really consider taking a holiday there when Maggie is old enough to learn to ski."

"Sounds like a plan," Sarah replied, taking a seat next to him, but making sure not to get too close this time. If Carina had noticed before, Chuck might to as well.

"You're never too young to learn," Beckman said. "I think she'd be a natural. Remind me to give you the details of the lodge we stayed at. They have a rather tame bunny slope and the instructors are the best in the business. Did you go skiing often before she was born?"

"Oh, no." Chuck let out a nervous laugh. "I'm all limbs when it comes to outdoor activities, so it would probably be for the best if I stay on the bunny slope too."

"Ah." Beckman turned to Sarah. "Maggie gets her poise from you, I see."

Everything inside Sarah froze for a split second. "I guess so," she replied. "Her smile and natural charm is all Chuck, though." She caught his surprised expression at the compliment and gave him a playful shoulder bump, a silent message for him to focus.

"You two did a fine job then," Beckman said, oblivious to the undertones of the gesture, and rose. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's been a long day and I think I'll turn in. Thank you for a lovely dinner."

* * *

><p><strong>22. What Would Bond Do?<strong>

Chuck slumped back against the couch cushions and ran his hands down his face. "I can't believe she bought all that."

"People tend to see what they want to see." Sarah scooted back, turned sideways and tucked one leg in under her. "Thanks again, Chuck," she said. "I couldn't have pulled this off without you."

He lifted his head to look at her, giving her a lopsided smile. "Just doing my job." His eyes darted to the corner of the room for a moment. "Besides, it's not like pretending to be married to you is a hardship."

Sarah let out a humorless laugh. "Thanks, I guess." She stifled a yawn. "Are we gonna call it a night too?"

"That was my thinking." Chuck pushed to his feet and waited for Sarah to the same before they crossed the room. "Do you want me to check the doors and get the lights?" he asked.

"No need," Sarah replied. "Casey normally takes care of that after everyone had gone to bed."

"Is that part of his butler duties or does he moonlight as a security guard? He's not hiding a Rottweiler somewhere in the house, is he?"

"He prefers Major of the Manor actually," Sarah joked back, "and he's Casey, he doesn't need a vicious dog."

"Touché."

There was a lull in the conversation as they made their way to the stairs, but unlike before, Sarah found the silence comfortable. The easiness ended when, halfway up the steps, Chuck casually draped his arm over her shoulders. Her muscles tensed and she stopped walking and breathing. She refused to look at him, but in her peripheral vision she didn't miss his head dipping towards her and she closed her eyes as her heart rate sped up. The last thing she expected Chuck to do was to come on to her. He'd been a gentleman all night.

"Someone's up there," he whispered close to her ear. Sarah's eyes flew open.

"Oh." She slipped her arm around his back, just in case. The little shiver that ran through him made her feel less like an idiot. "C'mon," she whispered back and tugged him along with her once her legs started working again.

They found Beckman on the landing, fingering through the titles in the bookcase. "This is quite the collection," she said when she spotted the couple.

"Please feel free to take a book to bed," Sarah offered, hoping no one picked up on the slight shakiness in her tone.

"I think I will, thank you." Beckman's attention turned back to mini library. "Goodnight." She waved over her shoulder.

"Goodnight," Chuck and Sarah replied as they ascended the rest of the stairs.

When they reached Sarah's door, their arms fell to their sides. Chuck took a step in the direction of his own room at the same time Beckman turned around, book in hand. Acting quickly, Sarah grabbed Chuck's arm and pulled him into her room with her and shut the door.

"That was smooth," Chuck said.

"Not as smooth as you," Sarah replied, walking over to the dresser. She made quick work of her earrings and dropped them into the jewelry box.

Chuck remained close to the door, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He wiggled one shoulder. "I just imagined what Bond would do in that situation."

Sarah acknowledged the comment with a small smile, focusing on removing her necklace and watch. She could still smell a hint of his aftershave, the scent of pine and something she couldn't lay her finger on, even though he was standing on the opposite side of the room. Even with her back to him, she was very aware of his presence.

"Well," Chuck broke the silence, "I guess she should be gone now, so goodnight." He opened the door before Sarah could respond. She did turn in time to see him take a couple of steps backwards, shut the door again and slump against the wall. "That was close," he said.

"What happened?"

He gestured in the direction of the hallway. "Diane has made herself at home in your library sitting area thingy." Then he frowned. "Seriously, what do you call that space?"

"Reading corner," Sarah replied automatically, her mind frantically searching for a solution to their latest predicament.

"Really," Chuck said, "I wouldn't have guessed, seeing as it's not actually in a corner."

Sarah ignored his quip and walked to the door to check for herself. She opened it just a crack. Beckman was indeed settled into a chair, her nose in a book, and it didn't seem like she'd be going to bed soon.

Sarah cursed under her breath and quickly closed the door when Beckman's head turned.

"Now what?" Chuck asked, looking up at her. He'd slid down the wall and was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up. "Do I wait here until the coast is clear?"

"It could be a while." She stepped around Chuck back into the main area of the room and paced to the bathroom and back. They only had one viable option. She bit her bottom lip in an effort to stall and maybe come up with a different plan. She couldn't.

"You're gonna have to sleep here tonight," she finally said.

Chuck's eyebrows shot up. "What? I don't think that's a good idea."

"Do you have a better one?"

He thought it over for a moment. "I could climb out the window," he said. "Surely there's a ledge or a trellis or something I can use to get to my room. All I need is someone to open that window from the inside – "

"Chuck," Sarah cut him off. "You're being ridiculous. We're on the second floor and you yourself said you're not athletic. How am I supposed to explain your broken neck to Beckman in the morning?" She planted her hands on her hips. "Not to mention your daughter."

Chuck's disappointed gaze dropped to the carpet, his shoulder sagging. "It's what Bond would do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And **spcr71** thought it couldn't be done *wink*. When this story started out, I told you it was based on a movie called Random Hearts. I sorta lied. Thank you to **Tamara Jane** who pointed out that it's actually called Borrowed Hearts.


	6. Chapter 6

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Well, if your Christmas trees and stockings are _still _up, you might want to see someone about that, right after you've read this chapter.

**A/N: **Hi folks, I hope your Christmas trees and stockings are still up. Thank you for sticking with this story, unseasonal as it has become. I'm humbled by your support, especially those of you who have taken the time to leave a comment, I think chapter 5 was a record. As always, **Nervert** and **quistie64** worked their magic, helping me to weave this tale. Thanks guys.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>23. It Happened One Night<strong>

If it hadn't been for the fact that Carina had gotten them arrested in their sophomore year of college, Sarah would have put this down as her worst idea yet. Technically she knew she was to blame as well – she could've stopped this before it had gone too far. She could have forced Carina to tell Beckman the truth or withdrew the offer of sale altogether. But it was Carina, Sarah decided, who had started all of this. And it was Carina who kept putting inappropriate thoughts in her head.

Sarah sighed as she dropped the used piece of floss into the trash. Chuck had finally accepted that he had no other choice than to stay, but not before he'd insisted on using the bathroom first, stating bluntly that he wanted to get in there while it was still nighttime. She'd agreed, figuring that at least he'd be asleep by the time she was done and they could avoid any further awkwardness. To be on the safe side, she'd taken her time going through her nightly hygiene ritual, all the while perking her ears for movement from beyond the door. It had been quiet for a while, so she figured it was safe to emerge from the bathroom.

Sarah immediately noticed the distinct lack of two things, one of them being a lanky, curly haired nerd. Her first thought was that Beckman had finally turned in and that Chuck had returned to his room, but that would not explain the absence of her favorite pillow.

Sighing again, Sarah padded in her socks to her dressing room.

"What are you doing?" she asked from the doorway.

"Trying to sleep," Chuck replied, as if it wasn't obvious, and pulled the blanket higher over his shoulder.

"Chuck, you can't sleep on the floor."

"Well, you don't have a couch." He lifted his head and punched the pillow twice before lying back down again.

Sarah bit back a complaint about the blatant abuse she'd just witnessed. "Why would I have a couch in my bedroom?" she asked instead.

"All master bedrooms in mansions have couches. Don't you watch TV?" His snarky remark threatened to dissolve Sarah's last thread of patience. "At least the floor isn't gross," he continued while trying to shift into a more comfortable position, "though this Persian does nothing in terms of lumbar support."

"You could always sleep in the bed."

Chuck propped himself up on his elbows and tilted his head back to look at her. "But where would you sleep?"

"The other side of the bed," Sarah replied. His jaw went slack as he shook his head from side to side. "Can't we just be adults about this?"

"I am being an adult and I'm choosing to sleep on the floor."

Annoyed by his insistence, Sarah hunched down to reason with him. Chuck tried to scramble away, but he quickly ran out of space.

"Okay, Chuck," she said, "play it your way, but this is _my _pillow – " She grabbed it before he could make a move to stop her. "And if you're all stiff and sore in the morning, I'll tell Beckman it's because we spent the night working on Maggie's Christmas present."

In a move that would make a professional gymnast jealous, Chuck twisted around and jumped to his feet. "You wouldn't."

"Well, I can't really tell her the truth now, can I?" Sarah rose and spun on her heel, and just because his constant rejection was getting the better of her, she added an extra sway to her hips as she walked away, wishing she was wearing her normal boy shorts with her t-shirt, instead of the sweatpants she'd thought would make Chuck less uncomfortable.

Not waiting to see if he followed, she pulled the covers back, slipped into bed and switched off the light. She rolled onto her side facing the window and flipped the pillow around, catching his scent on it. Several minutes passed before she heard Chuck shuffle towards the bed.

Sarah winced when he bumped into the nightstand. "Are you okay?" she whispered without turning.

"Fine," he groaned. She felt the mattress dip and the pull of the covers as he settled in. A triumphant smile crossed her lips as she closed her eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>24. Midnight Spooning<strong>

Sarah watched the digital clock as it changed, indicating that yet another minute had passed. She rolled onto her back and lolled her head to the side. Chuck was sleeping peacefully. He wasn't snoring, per se, it was more like having a giant cat in her bed, but she was used to silence. She'd elbowed him in ribs once, to which he'd responded with a mumbled "five more minutes, El" without so much as opening his eyes. Blowing out a frustrated breath, Sarah pushed herself up on her elbows and leaned over to his side.

"Hey, Chuck," she whispered in his ear.

He swatted at her. "Not now, Morgan," he muttered and burrowed deeper into the pillow.

Sarah pulled back and glared at him.

"Chuck Bartowski, if you have a girlfriend you haven't told me about, I swear – " She shook her head in disbelief. This could not be happening again. Yes, it was only a business arrangement, but he had almost kissed her. That was almost cheating. Just because she wasn't on the receiving end this time, didn't make it better. She tossed the covers aside and got out of bed. "We are so gonna talk in the morning, Chuck," she huffed, getting only a snuffle in response.

Sarah was hit by rush of cold air when she entered the kitchen, realizing for the first time that she hadn't pulled on her robe. She briskly rubbed her arms and went over to the cupboard where Casey kept the single malt. She poured herself a generous shot and downed half of it, the liquid burning all the way to her stomach. Then she went over to the fridge for what she had actually come down for – Rocky Road. It would cancel out the warming effect of the whiskey, but she didn't really care. There was nothing ice cream couldn't cure. She grabbed a spoon from the drawer and made herself comfortable at the kitchen table.

She'd barely eaten a second spoonful, straight from the container, when a noise from the door made her jump. Her heart rate, slowing down after being startled, sped right back up when saw Maggie, dressed in yellow footie pajamas with the words "My daddy is a nerd" in black lettering across the front, rubbing her eyes with her fist. The other had Mr. Oink's ear in a death grip as she dragged him behind her.

"Kitty," she drawled sleepily, "whacha doing?"

"Uh – " Sarah was stunned for a moment. She looked down at the ice cream and then back at Maggie. "I'm having a midnight snack." It was way past twelve, but she highly doubted Maggie was old enough to tell time. The little girl shuffled across the floor and clambered onto the chair next to Sarah who instinctively reached her hand out to steady her. Unsure of what to do next, Sarah asked "Can I get you anything?"

"Do you have warm milk?" Maggie asked with a yawn. Sarah had hoped she would ask for her dad and debated whether or not to go wake him anyway, but she was fairly certain she could handle this simple task.

"Yeah," Sarah answered lightly as she got up. Maggie rose to her knees on the chair and then to her feet and Sarah's heart skipped a beat. She turned and grabbed the girl by the waist. "Sweetie, I don't think you should do that."

"I just wanted to see what that is," she explained, pointing to the container on the table.

"It's ice cream. Would you rather have some of that?"

Maggie's head snapped around to Sarah. "Really?" she asked.

Sarah nodded, pleased with herself that she seemed to have done something right. "I'll get you a spoon," she replied.

The toothy grin she received prompted one of her own, but it faltered slightly when she realized she couldn't hold onto Maggie and reach the silverware drawer. Sarah tried to figure what Chuck would do and got an idea. She picked Maggie up and sat her down on the table. Then she slowly pulled her hands away.

"Just sit still, okay? Don't move."

"Okay."

Maggie complied, but Sarah didn't take her eyes off of her as she backed towards the drawer, ready to leap forward if need be. With the second spoon delivered without incident, she pulled her chair in front of Maggie's legs. She held the container out to the little girl who peered inside and then at Sarah.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I don't have a bowl," Maggie replied.

"Have you never eaten ice cream from the carton before?" Sarah asked.

Maggie shook her head.

"It's the best." To prove her statement Sarah scooped up a spoonful of Rocky Road, eating it under the watchful gaze of the four-year-old. Still chewing, she offered Maggie the container again and this time she dug in without hesitation. Her face was a picture of pure delight as she licked her spoon clean.

Sarah held the carton between them as they ate in silence, stealing glances at one another in between bites.

Sarah cleared her throat uneasily. "Maggie, who's Morgan?" she asked before she could talk herself out of it. It was a cheap shot, prying for information from a child, but the question had been nagging her since Chuck had uttered the name.

"Uncle Morgan is Daddy's bestest friend. He has a beard," Maggie stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh." It hadn't even occurred to her that some people evidently still named their _boys_ that, but it didn't mean she was completely wrong. "Does your daddy have a girlfriend?" Now Sarah just felt pathetic. She was actually stooping so low as to interrogate a four-year-old.

"Uh-huh," Maggie nodded and licked her spoon clean with keen concentration. "He's got you."

The answer floored Sarah. "Oh, sweetie, I'm not – "

"Daddy said you're his friend," Maggie cut in, "and you're a girl. Do you play videogames?"

"No," Sarah replied dumbfounded. Or should that be yes, yes, no, she wondered. Or no, yes, no? They'd told Maggie that she and Chuck were having a sleepover at his friend's house, but that didn't actually make them friends.

"What do girlfriends do?" Maggie asked curiously, tilting her head to the side as she studied Sarah.

"Uh…wow," Sarah managed to choke out. "I suppose it depends on mutual interests and where the relationship is heading and how serious – " She stopped talking when Maggie's expression turned to one of confusion. "They go to the movies," she ventured hesitantly.

"Oh, okay," Maggie replied, seemingly content with the answer. She opened her mouth for what Sarah assumed would be another awkward question and Sarah quickly diverted her attention.

"You know, it's really late. We should probably go back to bed."

Sarah got up and was ready to help Maggie down from the table when the little girl looked up at her with her innocent blue eyes. "But I'm not sleepy anymore."

* * *

><p><strong>25. I know Kung Fu<strong>

Chuck yawned as he felt around for his phone on the nightstand. He located it and brought it up close to his face before prying one eye open. As he'd suspected, it was still very early. He rolled over on his side to go back to sleep, flinging his arm across the mattress. The covers on the empty side of were a mess, something that was very odd. He opened his eyes again and then realized he was in a strange bed. It took him a second to focus before he recalled the events of the previous night, including getting into bed with Sarah, who was now absent. Had she not been –

He cut off the thought and quickly retracted his arm.

Despite it being too early to get up, he did so anyway and quietly padded to the bathroom. Finding it empty, he used the opportunity to brush his teeth again, hoping it would help with his morning breath, seeing as he his mints were in the other room. He finished up quickly, not wanting to be caught in the act should Sarah return.

Before getting back into bed he decided to check on Maggie. He poked his head out the door, making sure no one was in the hall as he was lacking a robe. Sarah had lent him a pair of sweatpants which he suspected belonged to an ex-boyfriend at some point, but the wife beater undershirt made him a little self-conscious. Awesome often hinted that he could work out more.

Satisfied that he was alone, he snuck to Maggie's door and frowned when he found it open and the bed empty. He checked the en suite bathroom and, seeing nothing, made his way downstairs. In the kitchen he came across two spoons and half a glass of whiskey on the center table. Then he spotted Mr. Oink in the doorway to the living room. He was about to stoop down to retrieve the pig when he noticed Monster's Inc. playing on the TV with the sound muted, and a bunny slipper clad foot on the armrest of the couch. He approached quietly, careful not to trip over the board games and spare couch cushions that were strewn all over the floor.

Sarah was sprawled out on her back, her head pushed off the couch by a tiny foot pressed against the side of her neck. Her fingers were wrapped around Maggie's ankle and her other hand pressed between her shoulders, Sarah's arm forming a barrier between the little girl and a possible meeting with the floor should she roll over in her sleep. Maggie had latched onto Sarah's leg with a chokehold, one which she mostly reserved for Mr. Oink.

Chuck's heart melted at the sight and he wished he had his phone with him to capture the moment.

"If you wake this child, I will hurt you." Sarah's voice sounded gravelly, like she'd gotten too little sleep. Her eyes were still closed and for a second Chuck thought he'd imagined her speaking, but then she mumbled "I know Kung Fu."

"Thanks for the heads up," Chuck whispered back, hoping she was actually referring to a panda. "What are you two doing down here?"

"One of us couldn't sleep." Sarah finally opened her eyes and peered down at the child who'd apparently decided she made a comfy bed.

"Would that have anything to do with the ice cream stains she wasn't wearing when I put her to bed?" Chuck asked, struggling to keep a straight face.

Sarah gave him a pained look.

Taking pity on her he leaned closer to move Maggie's foot so Sarah could get more comfortable. She carefully shifted her head back onto the couch.

"You could've called me," Chuck said.

"You could've warned me not to feed her after twelve."

"She's not a gremlin," he replied, smiling despite himself, "but in the future you might want to watch her sugar intake."

"Thanks for the heads up," Sarah said, repeating his earlier words but with a touch of sarcasm. Then she yawned. "Please tell me you brought a blanket with you."

"I can do one better." He reached down to lift Maggie, but Sarah stopped him with a hand on his arm, slightly panicked. "Relax, Sarah," he said, "she's out like a light. She won't even stir, I promise." Sarah didn't look totally convinced, but nodded anyway and let him proceed. "Okay, now could you please move your leg a little?"

Chuck untangled Maggie, trying not to touch Sarah too much in the process. It would've gone smoother had Sarah not tried to help. When Maggie was finally settled against his shoulder, he dared to breathe again. He could still smell the mixing scents of Maggie's strawberry soap and Sarah's vanilla shampoo, but it wasn't so strong now that he'd put some distance between him and the blonde on the couch. He took a few steps before realizing that Sarah wasn't following. Turning back to the couch he saw that she'd rolled into a ball to compensate for the loss of the little heater that was now nestled into him. She had one hand tucked under her cheek and the other between her drawn up knees.

"Sarah, what are you doing? You'll freeze."

"You're a noisy sleeper," she replied drowsily.

"Oh, sorry." He gave her a sheepish grin. "I'll let you fall asleep first," he offered, getting a dubious look in return.

"I'll take my chances with the couch," she said.

Chuck considered letting her be, but then she shivered and pulled her robe tighter around herself.

"You don't want Beckman to think we had a spat, do you?" he asked.

Sarah huffed and pushed herself upright. "Convenient how that works out for you," she grumbled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Now you're asking "Where's the fourth scene?" Well, the good news is that it's not in an alternate universe – yeah, I've discovered Fringe and am going through the episodes at an alarming rate. This was the logical point to end the chapter, but I'll make it up to you. See you soon.


	7. Chapter 7

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Just a short note to say thanks for the continued interest, the reviews, and the super duper fast beta, **Nervert.** So, let's read.

**A/N: **Eleven months and four days from now, it's Christmas, but this will be finished before then, I hope. Sorry for the delay folks. My housekeeper had an accident and most of my free time went into trying to make things shiny. The thing is – they don't stay shiny. Anyway, now I have a temp, everything is sparkling and nothing is where it's supposed to be, but at least I'll have time to do this. I have included an extra scene to make up for the time delay and the previous chapter being shorter than normal.

I'd like to thank my two beta's for this chapter – **Nervert,** who taught me you can never have too many comma's, and **quistie64**, who was willing to step in his absence for the last few scenes. You guys are great.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review. Though I don't reply to all of you, I can assure you that I've read and loved every one.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>26. Rules of Engagement<strong>

Relaxing in her chair, Carina took a slow sip from her orange juice as she studied Sarah across the rim of her glass. She swallowed, swirled the glass around to mix the pulp and then sat it down on the table in front of her.

"You seem a little distracted this morning."

Sarah admired Carina's patience. It had been a whole ninety seconds since Beckman had excused herself to go powder her nose.

"I'm just worried about the deal," she replied, knowing it was a lie. "I'll feel better once the contract has been signed."

"Nope, that's not it," Carina drawled, reaching for her juice again. Sarah picked up her own glass to mask her smirk, but was deliberate to not completely do so. Carina caught it and her eyes grew wide as she almost sputtered. "You did the nerd!"

"A little louder, Carina, I don't think the people in San Diego heard you."

"Yeah, whatever." Carina waved it off and leaned forward. To Sarah's relief, she dropped her voice. "You don't have that morning afterglow, though," she remarked with a pensive frown. "Did he pull the trigger too early?"

"That is none of your business." They might have been best friends for fourteen years, but there were some things Sarah liked to keep private. She scowled at the redhead, but Carina showed no signs of backing down, and Sarah decided that it was more fun to get even than get mad. "If you must know," she said, "he was amazing. Great stamina. I barely got any sleep." Which technically, Sarah thought, was the truth.

Carina's jaw nearly hit the table. Then she snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe you."

"Would I lie?" Sarah asked innocently.

"Yes," Carina replied without missing a beat. "The only thing I can't figure out is why."

"Well, now you'll never know," Sarah said, not bothering to hide her grin this time. "Rules are rules."

"I wasn't talking about his performance," Carina replied. Then she shook her head slowly. "I think you're lying about the whole thing."

Sarah cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows drawn together in fake confusion. "Why would I do that?"

"Because anyone is fair game until one of us crosses the line. You don't want me to go after him." Carina tilted her glass in a salute. "How very devious of you." She actually sounded proud. "Of course," Carina continued, "you do realize that now I have to make a play for him, given that you are clearly interested."

Sarah had no choice but to drop the act. "And if I ask you not to? He has a kid, Carina," she added when it didn't seem like Carina was taking her seriously. A very sweet kid, even when she was all sticky and hyped up on sugar.

"Okay, fine," Carina said. "That's a rule breaker anyway. I'm not gonna do the time if I haven't done the crime." She took another sip of her juice, contemplating something. "You should probably back down too."

Sarah blinked in surprise. "What? Why?" It was the first time in the history of their friendship that Carina had actually advised her against going for a guy. Even with Bryce, she'd just hinted, but she'd never come right out and said it.

"Rebounds and kids don't mix."

Reluctant as Sarah was to admit it, Carina had a point. Once Beckman was safely on her way back to D.C., she should just give Chuck his check and let him and Maggie get on with their lives. A heaviness settled in Sarah's stomach at the thought.

* * *

><p><strong>27. Employee of the Month No More<strong>

Sarah was glad to see that the store was busy. Beckman couldn't have picked a better time for a site visit, given that Christmas was a little over a week away and everyone had gone shopping mad, even at the Buy More.

"It's very green," Beckman remarked, her tone not giving any indication whether that was a good or a bad thing.

"My dad wanted to keep it authentic," Sarah informed her. "He even went as far as to buy out the brand when the company started selling off its franchises." She didn't want to go into further detail than that.

"I see. Why don't you show me around? I'd like to get an idea of the layout."

"Of course." Sarah indicated for Beckman to lead the way when a movement caught her attention. As she turned to see some Green-shirts tossing a box around her gaze fixed on something far more worrying behind them. She grabbed Carina's arm, jerking her head towards the source of the trouble. Carina shot her an 'oh crap' look.

"Distract her," Sarah mouthed and Carina nodded just as Beckman turned around to see why they weren't following.

"Diane," Carina picked up the cue, "why don't I introduce you to Mark?"

"Mike," Sarah corrected. "He's the store manager." She made sure to stand between Beckman and the Employee of the Month wall as she spoke. "I'll catch up with you in a second."

Beckman looked perplexed but allowed Carina to usher her in the direction of the manager's office. Sarah, on the other hand, wasted no time to get to her destination. She threw a glance over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear before removing Chuck's picture from the wall. She folded it in half and slipped it into her purse. The name plaque followed.

"What are you doing?"

Sarah spun around, her heart in her throat from being startled. Seeing it was just one of the nerds, she quickly schooled her features, not that it mattered, as his gaze was nowhere near her face. She folded her arms across her chest, spoiling his view.

"Excuse me?" she asked icily. The short Indian man's eyes traveled slowly upwards, causing her to shiver with disgust. She was used to receiving similar treatment from most men, but that didn't mean she liked it. Then the beady eyes fixed on hers.

"I'm asking," he said pointedly, folding his arms to mimic her stance, "why you are vandalizing our Employee of the Month wall." He flicked the greasy bangs out of his eyes with a twitch of his neck. "Well?" he asked, attempting, and failing, to inject authority into his tone.

Sarah was about to ask him if he knew who she was when they were joined by a taller, older nerd who apparently didn't know one end of a comb from the other. A cloud of alcohol breath hit her, giving fair warning that he likely had no sense of personal space either. "I guess Employee of the Month is no more, huh?" he slurred, swaying slightly on his feet.

"What are you talking about, Jeffrey?" the Indian man asked. "She doesn't make the rules around – " He trailed off and Sarah could tell the exact moment when realization dawned. "You're one of them," he breathed in awe. "The supermodels." He brushed his hair back with his hand and stuck out a greasy palm. "Lester Patel, the best nerd herder you'll ever have the pleasure to employ."

Sarah made no move to shake the proffered hand. Just the thought of touching him made her stomach churn. It remained extended for several awkward seconds before beating a grudging retreat.

"Are we interviewing for new Green-shirts again?" Jeffrey asked, having trouble following the conversation. He wasn't the only one.

"Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey." Lester shook his head before turning back to Sarah. "Excuse us a moment." He steered the taller man away, but not quite out of earshot. "Remember that little bet I was telling you about? She's the other one," he whispered loudly, pointing at Sarah.

"Oh," Jeffrey replied, though he still looked confused. "I still don't get why you can't leave the redhead to Chuck and go after the blonde." Now he was pointing. "You know he has a way with the ladies."

Sarah wanted to make her escape, but the words 'bet', 'Chuck' and 'redhead' kept her rooted to the spot. The duo either didn't notice, or they just didn't care.

"Yeah, but Chuck doesn't know that," Lester said. "I swear, if a naked woman jumps into his lap, he'd offer her his jacket. Besides, there's only room for one assistant manager." He jerked his head in Sarah's direction. "Plus she's married," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Sarah's eyes drifted involuntarily to the engagement ring and wedding band glittering in the fluorescent light. It didn't take a genius to do the math and she really didn't want to hear any more. She took a step forward.

"Gentlemen," she said, keeping her voice even, "I believe there are computers in the cage that still need to be fixed." It was a safe assumption, given the backlog she'd encountered a few days earlier.

"Chuck usually takes care of that," Lester informed her, but then crumpled under her steely gaze. "But he's not here…really unreliable that one – " He grabbed his partner by his shirt sleeve and started to pull him in the direction of the double green doors. "We'll get right on that." He thumped his chest with the side of his fist as he walked backwards. "Best nerd herder," he reminded Sarah again.

* * *

><p><strong>28. Hold the broccoli<strong>

Chuck lay on his stomach to check under the bed. Satisfied that there were no stray socks, shoes or hair ribbons lying around, he got to his feet.

"I guess we have everything," he told Maggie and clipped her suitcase shut. She was sitting next to it on the bed, pulling absentmindedly on Mr. Oink's ears.

"Dad?"

Chuck steeled himself. He recognized that tone. Maggie only resorted to it when she knew the answer to whatever she was going to ask would most likely be no. For good measure, she added the slight head tilt and puppy dog eyes.

"Do we have to leave?"

Part of him wanted to stay too and get to know Sarah better, but he'd spent the whole morning lying wide-eyed next to her in the same bed, listing reasons of why that would be a very bad idea. It was a fairly short list, but there was no denying that Sarah Walker was way out of his league. He'd blamed the almost kiss on them getting caught up in their own con. He also he had a daughter to consider, one who'd apparently grown attached to her in merely a day, or an ice cream-movie-game night, to be precise.

He tried to sidestep the question. "Don't you miss Aunt Ellie and Uncle Devon?"

"They're probably at work," Maggie pointed out.

"I know," Chuck replied and sat down beside his daughter. "But we have to go back. That's our home. This is Kitty's, we can't just invite ourselves to stay."

"Kitty is nice and her house is the biggest ever. She won't mind."

"What won't I mind?" Sarah asked from the doorway.

Her sudden appearance caught Chuck off guard and before he could act, Maggie wormed down from the bed then, with an excited "Kitty!", she headed straight for Sarah, wrapping her little arms around blonde's legs and resting her chin on Sarah's thigh. If Chuck had to guess, Sarah was being subjected to the same pleading blue-eyed-treatment he'd received.

Sarah smiled down at Maggie and ruffled her fringe. "Hi, sweetie."

"Where were you?" Maggie asked, openly curious.

"I told you she was working, Boo," Chuck interjected, hoping to save Sarah from a flood of questions, or at least one in particular, but he wasn't having a very successful day as a parent. Maggie hadn't even acknowledged him with as much as a look when he'd spoken.

"Aunt Ellie fixes brains and Uncle Devon fixes hearts," she told Sarah. "And Daddy fixes computers. What do you fix?"

"I run a business," Sarah replied, clearly amused.

"How do you do that?" Maggie asked.

"That's enough with the questions, Mags." Chuck stepped up behind her and loosened her grip while flashing Sarah an apologetic smile.

"Maggie," Sarah addressed the little girl, "do you like mac 'n cheese?"

"Does it have broccoli in it?"

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "Who puts broccoli in mac 'n cheese?"

"Aunt Ellie."

"Oh." Sarah hunched down to Maggie's level. "I don't like broccoli either," she whispered conspiratorially, "so why don't you run down to the kitchen and make sure Lou makes it without?"

"Okay," Maggie nodded solemnly, accepting her mission. Then she turned to Chuck, lifting her chin victoriously. "See, told you she's nice."

* * *

><p><strong>29. When a bet comes back to bite you<strong>

"You have a fan for life," Chuck told Sarah once Maggie had wandered away and they were alone.

"Which is probably not a good thing," Sarah said. "I'm sorry, Chuck, I should've checked with you first."

"It's okay." What else could he say when Sarah was giving him the exact same innocent blue eyes Maggie always did to get her way? "I guess we're having lunch with Diane?" he asked in a conscious effort to stop comparing Sarah and his daughter.

"No, actually our meeting ran late. Carina is taking her directly to the airport. Casey just left with her luggage."

"So it's just the three of us for lunch?" Chuck asked.

Sarah shrugged. "We need to eat. Plus you and I still have to conclude…business." She reached for the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a folded envelope which she handed over to Chuck. "For a job well done. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Chuck replied, tucking it into his shirt pocket. They stared awkwardly at each other before he cleared his throat. "Well, that's it, I suppose."

"I know about the bet," Sarah said out of the blue. "The one you made with Larry."

Chuck frowned, shaking his head. "Sorry, I have no idea – "

He stopped talking when Sarah raised an eyebrow. She evidently didn't believe him. Chuck racked his brain, but the last bet he'd made that he could remember, was with Morgan. It had involved _a lot_ of sizzling shrimp and Chuck had lost. Twice. His stomach roiled at the memory.

The silence became uncomfortable and he was at a loss. "Sarah, I really don't know what you're talking about. Who's Larry?"

"From the Buy More," was the only explanation he got. Chuck mentally ran through the list of coworkers and regular customers. He didn't know any Larry's, though Sarah seemed to think he should. Then it dawned on him.

"Do you mean Lester?" he asked. He shuddered to think how that conversation had gone. Or worse. "Did he come on to you?" The question was out before he could think it over.

"No." Sarah held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. "This put him off. Not that it mattered. From what I understand, Carina is your target." Chuck was momentarily distracted by the fact that Sarah was still wearing her rings. "Well?" she said, planting her hands on her hips. "Care to explain?"

Chuck shook his head slowly from side to side. "Yeah." Then he blinked himself out of his stupor, catching up with the turn the conversation had taken. "It's not what you think."

"Where have I heard that before?"

"Not from me," Chuck said. Judging by the annoyed look on Sarah's face, that didn't help his case at all. "It was Lester's crazy idea and I only agreed to it to get out of the conversation and away from his fish curry breath. Besides, have you met Carina? She would shoot him down so fast, Annie Oakley would be jealous. And I only suggested Carina because –" He stopped abruptly, knowing he'd said too much, but if he thought Sarah would just let it go, he was sadly mistaken.

"Because?"

"Because it seemed like she could handle herself."

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, he realized, when Sarah's lips tightened into a grim line.

"And you didn't think I could?"

Chuck opened and closed his mouth without saying a word. He had a feeling telling the truth at this particular point would not go down well, so instead he diverted. "Sarah, look, I respect women – " He paused, gauging her reaction. Her face gave nothing away. "What I'm trying to say," he continued, "is that I would never make a serious bet like that. I know you don't know me very well, but that's the truth. If I was that type of guy, I would have tried something last night."

"Maybe I'm just not your type."

"Are you kidding me?" Chuck said before he could stop himself, and because he was apparently on a roll, he added, "I really like you, Sarah. That's why I didn't want Lester to make a pass at you."

So much for keeping that tidbit to himself, Chuck thought. A look crossed Sarah's face which he couldn't quite decipher.

"I see," was all she said, then she sank down onto the bed and ran her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry, Chuck." She dropped her hands to her knees and looked up at him. "As far as arguments go, this one is really stupid."

Chuck sat down beside her, bumping her shoulder with his. "Hey, Morgan and I once debated for four hours about which is the best sandwich to bring to a deserted island." She didn't look directly at him, but Chuck didn't miss the small curl of her lips. "It's okay to look out for your best friend, you know. I would've done the same," he added more seriously, hoping to distract her from his earlier confession.

Their gazes met.

"Yeah," Sarah said, "but I'm still sorry. I tend to jump to conclusions sometimes."

"Totally unnecessary apology accepted," Chuck replied. He rose, offering Sarah his trademark grin and his hand. "Now how about that broccoli-free lunch you were bragging about?"

Before Sarah could react, Carina came rushing into the room.

"There you are," she said, backtracking to poke her head into the hall before closing the door behind her. "We have a problem."

* * *

><p><strong>30. The terminator isn't the only one<strong>

"What do mean, 'she's back'?" Sarah asked. She was standing next to Chuck, who was obviously not taking the news well, although he didn't say anything.

"I don't know what happened. She got a phone call from her son on the way to the airport which turned into an argument – something about skiing and Henrietta. The next thing she tells him is that she's staying in L.A. and that Christmas was cancelled and 'Henrietta can cook his turkey and fill his damn stocking'. Her words, not mine." Carina shuddered. "It was very disturbing."

"So you invited her to spend Christmas with us? Which is still another ten days away." Sarah would've hyperventilated, had it been in her nature.

"I couldn't just drop her off at a hotel," Carina replied in her own defense. "We're her hosts."

"Correction." Sarah waved her hand between Chuck and herself. "We are her hosts. You get to go home at night while we have to play happy family."

"Maybe Diane will insist on going to a hotel," Chuck said. "Surely she'll realize she'll be overstaying her welcome."

His comment earned him a glare from Carina, before she turned to address Sarah. "If she's angry at Emmett, there's a really good chance that she might call off the deal."

"What are we supposed to do about that?"

Carina shot her a 'do you have to ask' look.

Sarah shook her head. "Oh no. No, no, no." But even as she protested, she knew she didn't have much choice if she wanted to get rid of the Buy More.

"The choice is yours, Sarah. Without this sale –"

"I get it," she cut Carina off. Selling the Buy More was the last loose end that needed tying before she could liquidate the company. If she couldn't, it would have to be liquidated with the rest of Walker Industries and Chuck and his coworkers would all lose their jobs. That was not something she wanted on her conscience.

"So what's the plan?" Chuck asked. "Are we going to find this Emmett and make him apologize to his mother?"

"No, Schnook," Carina replied sarcastically. "You and Sarah are going to wine her and dine her and do whatever it takes to convince her to buy the store."

Chuck head snapped around so fast, Sarah thought he might have hurt himself. "You're selling the Buy More?"

Sarah was losing control of the situation and fast. "I think we have bigger issues than that," she replied to Chuck before turning and addressing Carina. "Help Beckman get settled back in and ask Lou to keep an eye on Maggie." The redhead wanted to refute the request, but Sarah didn't give her a chance. "Carina, please."

Not one to let the opportunity go by without getting the last word in, Carina left with a begrudging "fine".

Once alone, Chuck took a step back from Sarah, as if he was scared of her. "No," was all he said.

"We've done great so far."

"It was one day," he said. "What you're asking now…it's not going to work. We can't do this." He held his hands out in front of him, counting down on his fingers. "One, I don't like lying or subjecting Maggie to it. Two, she's already getting too attached to you, which in itself opens a whole host of problems, and three, it means missing Christmas with my family. The Bartowskis have traditions. Ellie cooks a nice family dinner and we have movie marathons in our pj's in front of a fake fireplace. If Maggie and I are not there, she'll never speak to me again, and as my only family aside from my daughter, I'm not risking that. We can't do this."

Chuck raised valid points, but that didn't help Sarah out of her predicament. She folded her arms across her chest, thoughtfully chewing on her bottom lip. Every problem had a solution, including this one. All she had to do was sell it properly. She took a steadying breath.

"Chuck, Maggie has no idea what's going on. She hasn't told any lies, we haven't asked her to tell one, and the only lie you told her was that we were friends. Plus you told me yourself that she barely interacts with strangers and I very much doubt that Beckman is going to interrogate her." There was always the possibility of an innocent comment creating suspicion, but she would deal with that if and when necessary. First of all, she had to convince Chuck to stay.

"Ellie and Devon are more than welcome to spend Christmas here. You can still do all the things you're used to, just at my house instead of yours. We can even turn the air conditioner on cold and have a real fire in a real fireplace. Unfortunately, Beckman and I would be crashing your party, but that can't be helped."

"You wouldn't be crashing."

Sarah was touched by the comment and it didn't even occur to her to tell Chuck that she didn't really celebrate Christmas. The picture he'd painted sounded idyllic, and she was kind of looking forward to being part of that, even if it was just to keep up appearances. The realization that it might be all for show was somewhat depressing, so she pushed it aside and focused on the issue at hand.

"I will try and keep my distance from Maggie." She didn't explicitly promise. She wasn't one to go back on her word, which was why she chose her promises carefully. Though it would probably be for the best to not get too involved, Sarah thought. She didn't want to find out that she took after her mother at the expense of an innocent child.

"Sarah, it sounds simple when you put it like that, but I don't know – "

"I'll pay you more, obviously," she quickly interjected, then waited for the predicted 'how much'. Chuck didn't ask and she couldn't discern anything from his expression. "Does fifty thousand sound fair?"

"One hundred," Chuck replied.

"Okay."

She wasn't going to quibble about the money. She got what she wanted and that was enough.

"Wait, what?" Chuck asked, surprise clearly written across his face.

"I said one hundred thousand is fine," Sarah replied.

"No." He held his hands out apologetically and for a second Sarah thought he was going to change his mind. He did, but not in the way she'd expected. "Fifty thousand is good."

Sarah cocked her head to the side, frowning. "But I've agreed to give you a hundred."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean to…I don't even know where that came from."

"Chuck," Sarah said patiently, "I'm paying you a hundred thousand dollars. End of discussion." She gestured toward Maggie's luggage. "But then you'd better start unpacking."

All he did was nod, seemingly still trying to wrap his mind around his upcoming paycheck. Then he reached into his shirt pocket for the envelope she'd given him.

"Keep it," Sarah told him. "Consider it a down payment."

Chuck's hand dropped to his side. "Okay. Thanks."

Sarah offered him a small smile before heading for the door. Halfway, she stopped and turned. "Remind me to teach you the basics of haggling," she teased, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. His smile wasn't as bright as she'd become used to, but he was making an effort.

In the hallway she stopped and slumped against the wall. With Carina's warning still fresh in her mind, her intuition told her that Chuck had a point earlier – this was not going to be as easy as she'd made it sound. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. At least she hadn't admitted to Chuck that she really liked him too – that would really complicate matters.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well you didn't think they were gonna fall in love in a day, did you? Or maybe they did? Time will tell. What I can tell you is that the next scene is entitled "The beginning of a beautiful friendship". See you back here later in the week.


	8. Chapter 8

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Happy belated birthday, **iAmBixie! **Hope you had a good one. The second shout out goes to **AdmiralK **for proof reading this chapter on such short notice. You're aces, dude.

Due to missing a reread night last week there will be a double feature this week, unfortunately not tonight though, but Friday. I have to stay up really late to do this, not that I mind because it's really fun, but I do hate myself in the mornings. And my boss is not crazy about me taking naps on my keyboard *wink*.

That's enough from me, let's get to today's chapter. Enjoy.

**A/N: **Tada! Welcome to this installment of the **Frea vs. Kate Leap Day Challenge**. For those of you going 'huh?', here's what happened – my boss went on an island holiday so you're getting back-to-back updates of **What Fates Impose **from **Frea **and this today and **A Common Spy Problem **tomorrow. Now you're probably wondering what my boss has to do with fanfiction. Valid question. As it turns out, when the cat's away, the mice have wine with lunch. On second thought, I bet **Frea **will explain it better, so check out **Fates.** Also, **Frea **is only updating one story, which could be a bit of a disadvantage, so if you're gonna read both chapters in one go, please don't skimp on the reviews.

Speaking of reviews, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to send me a note, whether it be here, in a PM or on Twitter, it's awesome to get your feedback. Also thank you to **Nervert **and **quistie64 **for their input in this chapter.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>31. A Plan Comes Together<strong>

Chuck watched in dismay as his soldier lay bleeding for the fifth time in an hour. No matter how hard he'd tried to concentrate, his head was not in the game. He'd thought having a little down time and catching up on Call of Duty, on an eighty inch monitor no less, would be heaven, but his mind kept wandering. He punched the power switch on the Xbox to shut it off. Then he grabbed the TV remote and did the same, causing the screen to go black. He might as well quit while he was dead, he thought.

Sinking deeper into the oversized sofa, he plucked the check from his pocket, unfolded it and stared at the zeros. He'd never earned so much money in such a short time before and it hadn't quite sunk in that he'd be making four times that in a mere ten days or so. Added to his own savings, he was home free. More than. A big smile spread across his face, stopped halfway and faltered.

It was finally real.

His heart started beating faster and his throat threatened to close up. It was real. He was going to start his own company and move into his own place. No more Buy More and no more having Ellie around all the time. He was going to start living his life without safety nets.

It was a terrifying thought.

His life hadn't quite turn out like he'd planned. He always imagined getting his degree and finding a job in software development or something similar. He and Jill would get married, buy a house, maybe adopt a dog, and once the time was right, start a family. That dream went up in smoke when Bryce got him kicked out of Stanford and Jill unceremoniously dumped him after his expulsion. And then, just when Ellie had convinced him that he didn't need his diploma to start his own company, or Jill to fulfill his other goals in life, his ex-girlfriend had dropped another bomb.

Chuck looked at the check one more time before slipping it back into his pocket. Back then he couldn't risk everything he had, not when he had a baby to take care of. Raising kids turned out to be expensive and he was forced to pick up as many shifts at the Buy More as he could. He knew it was a temporary solution. He wanted Maggie to have a normal childhood. She deserved better than to grow up with an absent father like he and Ellie had. He had no illusions about being his own boss, that was going to be long hours too, but at least he'd get to work around Maggie's schedule.

He let out a breath. If the last four years had taught him anything, it was that he could do anything he put his mind to. Sure, it was scary, but they were going to be okay. With a smile, Chuck mentally ticked off two things on his five year plan. He had an amazing kid and his career had never looked more promising. And if he could make that work, getting the house and the dog would be a piece of cake.

Four out of five wasn't half bad.

_But five out of five is better._

That's what Ellie would say. She'd cut him some slack in the dating department, but he knew she would be disappointed if he ended up a perpetual bachelor. Truthfully, so would he.

His phone beeped, pulling him from his reverie. He grabbed it from where it lay next to him on the couch and dismissed the alert.

"Well I guess the future will have to wait," he said to himself as he stood up. Ballet rehearsals took priority after all.

* * *

><p><strong>32. Say Uncle<strong>

Sarah closed the browser and tilted her head back, rubbing her eyes. Research on the culture and tourist attractions of the major European cities just didn't seem to have its usual appeal for some reason, not that she wasn't looking forward to the trip. She had been abroad before, but as a young child she'd spent most of her time in a hotel room with the au pair of the month and during one of their college holidays, she and Carina had done a tour of the world's most famous nightclubs. Though she had the stamps in her passport, but she'd never really seen any of the places she'd been to.

She rolled her shoulders to loosen her tense muscles before pushing her chair away from the desk with a sigh – a lot still needed to happen before she could even contemplate getting on a plane.

Making her way down the hall towards the kitchen, Sarah noticed that the house was quiet. Carina apparently felt some guilt over the repercussions of her "PR exercise" and had taken Beckman shopping as the latter hadn't packed for a prolonged stay. She, Chuck and Maggie had had a rather awkward lunch, after which Chuck had put Maggie down for a nap. Sarah had offered him her father's den to do whatever it is he did in his spare time. She had a feeling that between being a single parent and his job at the Buy More, he didn't get much free time so she didn't push for them to come up with a proper background story to pull of the next ten days. She figured they'd be able to make it through another dinner safely.

Stopping short in front of the fridge, Sarah's hand froze midair. There was a note stuck to the door, written in an unfamiliar scrawl.

_Took M to ballet. Back at six._

Sarah smiled. It was probably habit, one she imagined his sister had drilled into him since they shared living quarters. It must be nice having someone who cared about your whereabouts, she mused as she opened the door and reached for a bottled water. She also couldn't deny that she was secretly thrilled that Chuck had thought about her when he wrote it.

"Pass me the olives while you're in there, and a bottle of decent gin."

Sarah shut the refrigerator door and spun around in the direction of the voice, her eyes wide in surprise. "Uncle Roan! What are you doing here?"

He looked just as she remembered him. Tall, handsome and dressed to the nines.

"Two years and that's the best you can come up with?" he asked and crossed the room, wrapping Sarah up in a tight hug. "Hi, kiddo," he said as he put her back down.

Sarah laughed and shook her head. "I haven't been a kid for quite some time now," she replied before taking a swig of water.

"You'll always be that little girl with the pigtails and missing front teeth to me, even when you're old and married and – " He trailed off, his eyes fixed on her hand. "And you _are_ married."

"What?" Sarah asked and only then did she remember about the rings. She lowered the bottle, ignoring the water that had splashed out when she quickly ducked it her back.

"Cart and horses, my dear."

Sarah blushed, much to Roan's amusement.

"So where is this lucky fellow?" he asked when she didn't say anything. "I would love to interro…meet him."

"I…uh…" Sarah's mind started working a mile a minute. She really didn't want to drag another person into this charade, but there was no way to explain her current situation without telling the truth. At least, she thought, it was uncle Roan and he was always up for an adventure. Not to mention the fact that he had a way with women, which sparked an idea in the back of her mind. This could actually be a blessing in disguise, she decided. "Chuck stepped out," she finally replied.

"Chuck? I hate him already."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "It's short for Charles," she told him, knowing his adversity to call people by their nicknames, aside from her apparently.

"And Charles it shall be," Roan said. "Honestly, why people bother…"

"How about that martini?" Sarah asked before Roan could go on a tangent.

Roan's expression changed from feigned disgust to one of glee as he rubbed his hands together. "Now you're talking."

* * *

><p><strong>33. On a Wing and a Prayer<strong>

"Do we really get to stay?" Maggie asked, straining against the safety straps of her car seat. Chuck had a feeling that, had she not been restrained, there would definitely be bouncing, and the interior of his Matrix was way too small for that.

"Yeah, but just until Christmas, and then we have to go back home," he said for the umpteenth time. Maggie needed to understand that it was just a temporary situation.

"Christmas is still very, very, very far away," she replied.

Chuck groaned. The next ten days were probably going to feel like that. His gaze darted to the rearview mirror, catching sight of his daughter. While waiting for her to finish ballet class, he'd come to a decision, and though he still had his doubts, he had to believe what Ellie had told him a few nights ago.

"Mags," he said and waited until she'd settled down enough to give him her attention. "How would you like to play a game?"

"What kind of game?"

"Well – " Chuck hesitated, but only for a second. "It's a game of pretend."

Maggie tilted her head. "Can I be a pony?" she asked.

"It's not that kind of pretend, Boo," he replied patiently. "It's more like…keeping a secret."

Maggie seemed confused. "Are we keeping a secret or are we playing pretend?"

Chuck resisted the urge to slam his head down on the steering wheel. How he was supposed to explain this situation to a four-year-old was beyond him, but nonetheless, he tried again.

"Actually, it's Kitty's game." At the mention of her name, Maggie's eyes lit up.

"Kitty is playing too? Is she gonna pretend?"

Thanking his lucky stars that Maggie was finally catching on, Chuck nodded. "Yes. Kitty is going to pretend and you can't tell anyone that she's pretending."

"Okay," Maggie replied. "What is Kitty going to be?"

Chuck brought the car to a halt, grateful to hit a red light. He looked at Maggie in the mirror again. "She's going to pretend to be your mom." He carefully gauged his daughter's reaction. She thought it over for a moment, the tip of her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth like she had a habit of doing, and then she smiled.

"I know that game," she announced, her excitement barely contained.

Chuck whipped around in his seat. "What?"

"Uncle Morgan and I play it all the time," Maggie informed him matter-of-factly.

Chuck couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"What?" he asked again. The light had changed however, and insistent honking prompted him to focus his attention back on the road. He pulled away and switched to a slower lane.

"Uncle Morgan pretends he's my daddy when we go to the park and you're not looking. He says I'm his wing." Maggie sounded very proud of that fact.

"I'm gonna kill Morgan," Chuck mumbled under his breath. His daughter was not a prop to pick up girls.

"Does Kitty need a wing?" Maggie asked, oblivious to her father's murderous thoughts.

"Uh…sure," Chuck replied, though for the life of him he couldn't imagine Sarah needing any help in that department. Truth be told, he was rather baffled by the fact that she didn't have a boyfriend. Deception aside, she truly was the perfect woman. Maybe she wasn't the type to commit, he thought, and added that to the list of reasons why he shouldn't fall for her.

"Mags," he said, "you do know that Kitty is not really your mom?" He felt that he had to drive the point home.

"I know. It's okay, I don't want a real mom anyway."

Again Chuck was caught off guard. "Why not?"

"Timmy's mom took him away and now he doesn't have friends or a puppy."

Chuck was surprised that Maggie was able to make that connection. He remembered Ellie telling him a few months ago about a kid in daycare whose mother was awarded custody after essentially abandoning her son for almost three years. Ellie was afraid that the same could happen to them, but there wasn't much Chuck could do to prevent it. Jill had pulled the clichéd leave-the-baby-on-the-doorstep move when Maggie was barely two weeks old. Though she'd left the birth certificate, it listed the father as 'unknown', and all he had was the post-it note attached to it stating 'she's yours, good luck'. It was insufficient proof to seek sole custody. Ellie suggested a paternity test, something he probably should've considered when they'd first found Maggie, but Chuck balked and finally admitted the truth – there was a chance that Jill had been mistaken. He couldn't risk a possible unfavorable outcome, especially not when it would be on record.

"No one's gonna take you away from me, Boo," Chuck assured her. He wished he could be certain that it wasn't an empty promise. He would fight for her with everything he had, but the best he had to hope for, was that Jill would never come back.

* * *

><p><strong>34. How to Not Seduce a Grandmother in Less Than Ten Days<strong>

"So, this Diane, are we talking mid-twenties? Thirty?" Roan asked once Sarah had filled him in on the basics regarding her current situation and the idea she'd had.

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to prevent from grinning. "Mid-fifties to sixty, I think."

Roan choked on a mouthful of gin. "Excuse me?" he asked after he got his coughing under control. "You want me to seduce a grandmother?"

"She's not a grandmother." Sarah refrained from pointing out that Beckman was actually a few years younger than him. "And I haven't asked you to seduce her," she said instead. "Just…provide a distraction."

"So she wouldn't look too closely and discover the truth," Roan concluded as he handed his almost empty glass to Casey in exchange for a fresh drink. He nodded his thanks to which the butler replied with a grunt.

"Exactly." Sarah stole a glance at her watch. "But please, uncle Roan, whatever you do, don't break her heart."

"I can't help it if…fine," he said when Sarah gave him a pointed look. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll try not to be too charming." He took a sip from his martini, contemplating the situation. "I must admit though, you have a strange way of doing business."

"How do you know what they teach at Harvard these days?"

Roan gave her a mock scowl. "I'm wise in the ways of the world, Sarah. Don't ever forget that."

She laughed and tilted her glass towards him. "Touché. So what is happening in the world these days?"

"Don't you read newspapers anymore?" He sidestepped the question like she knew he would. Sarah had her suspicions about what her uncle really did for a living, but she'd never voiced it. If she was right, he'd just deny it anyway.

"They still print those?" she quipped instead, only to receive a sour look from her uncle. He was as up to date with technology as her generation, probably due to his unconfirmed profession, but he didn't appreciate jibes about his age.

"Don't get too big for your britches, missy. You'll set a bad example for the little one." Roan's expression turned thoughtful as he twirled his toothpick between his thumb and forefinger. "So tell me more about Charles," he said. "Are the two of you involved or is it strictly business?"

"Business," Sarah answered a little too quickly, causing her uncle to raise a disbelieving eyebrow. "It really is," she assured him. "I only met Chuck a few days ago."

Roan still didn't seem convinced. "I'm going to assume that he's not married," he stated flatly. "Divorced? Widowed?"

Sarah shook her head. "Neither."

"So he knocked up his…girlfriend? A call girl?"

"It's not like that," Sarah said in Chuck's defense, realizing for the first time that she actually had no idea what the circumstances were when it came to Maggie's lack of a mother. "Chuck is a really great dad," she deflected. "He's sweet and caring – "

She was cut short when Roan snorted.

"Why are you assuming the worst?" she asked, trying really hard to hide her annoyance. Chuck deserved a fair chance.

"Because you are a beautiful young woman with a healthy bank account."

Sarah wanted to refute him, but Roan stopped her with a raised palm. "You have a lot more to offer, I know. I'm just saying that you should be careful who you trust."

"I am," she replied, wisely leaving out the part about learning that lesson the hard way.

"Good." Roan finished his drink with a long swallow and put the glass down on the armrest. "I better get going," he said and rose to his feet. "I'll drop by tomorrow night at dinner time."

"Perfect," Sarah said as she walked him to the door. "See you at seven."

"Seven? The sun's barely down."

"Good parents feed their kids before bedtime," she pointed out.

"Little people," Roan scoffed, "they completely run and ruin your life." He pointed a finger at Sarah. "Remember that."

* * *

><p><strong>35. The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship<strong>

Chuck stopped short of the study and wiped his palms on his pants legs. He hadn't really seen much of Sarah since they'd shared a quiet lunch and he was suddenly nervous to face her. He puffed out a breath and took the last step before leaning with his hip against the door frame, hoping that he came off as casual. Sarah was engrossed in whatever was on her laptop screen and didn't notice him, giving Chuck the opportunity to study her.

God, he thought, she even made glasses look sexy. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders in soft curls and his eyes followed her hand as she tucked a strand behind her ear.

"It's not polite to spy, you know," she said quietly and looked up, snapping Chuck back to the present.

"I wasn't…uhm…I didn't want to interrupt," he replied as he felt heat rising from his neck.

Sarah slipped the glasses off and cocked her head to the side. "You're not." When Chuck stayed rooted to the spot, she raised one shoulder. "Are you coming in?"

"Yeah, of course." He silently cursed himself for sounding squeaky. If Sarah had noticed, and he was fairly certain she did, she politely ignored it.

He busied himself, studying the room. It was one he hadn't seen yet. Wall to wall bookcases framed the large window behind Sarah. The blinds were drawn, probably to prevent glare on her computer screen, he mused. Two pristine leather chairs were lined up on the opposite side of the desk. They didn't look very comfortable, so he opted for the sofa against the back wall. Sarah rose and joined him, sitting on the armrest furthest away.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I just wanted to let you know that you don't need to worry about Maggie."

Sarah frowned. "Did something happen? Is she alright?"

"She's fine. Why would you…ballet class is perfectly safe, I promise." Chuck gave her a lopsided smile, touched over her concern, even if there was no need for it. "Actually," he said, "it turns out my daughter is well versed in the art of lying."

"What do you mean?"

"Long story," Chuck replied. "Lucky for us though, she understands what it entails to pretend to be the child of someone she's not remotely related to."

"So I guess one of your friends has been using her as a wingman?"

Chuck blinked. "How did you know?"

"Someone was bound to see her potential." The minute the words were out, Sarah looked like she wanted to take them back. Chuck couldn't help but wonder what she'd meant, but like she did earlier, he decided to let the awkward moment pass. "I hope you're going to have a stern word with your friend," she said.

"I think I'll let Ellie take care of that. Morgan had had a crush on her since the sixth grade and made no secret of it, so she loves threatening him in retaliation for all the embarrassment he'd caused her."

"Your sister sounds like a formidable woman."

Chuck laughed. "That she is, but I wouldn't change her for the world. Which reminds me," he said as he straightened, "I better go call her and inform her of the…uh…development in our situation."

Sarah stood up too. "So we're all set then?"

"Well – " Chuck trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. His darted away from hers and then back. "About us – "

"What about us?" Sarah asked cautiously.

"I was thinking – " He paused again and cleared his throat. He had no idea why this was so hard. "I was thinking that perhaps we'd be…more convincing if we…if there was something real about our relationship." He didn't miss the slight panic that crossed Sarah's face. "I didn't mean it like that," he quickly interjected. "I just thought that if we were friends, we might be more comfortable around each other, especially when Beckman is around. I mean it's like when you visit a married couple, they act more like friends than lovers, because that would be embarrassing and inappropriate, and I really should stop talking now." He pursed his lips to do just that.

"You're asking if we could be friends?"

Chuck nodded. He watched her as she contemplated his offer, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip. When the silence stretched too long, he felt obliged to say something.

"I know you don't start a friendship by asking so much as finding common ground and building something from there, but we are a bit pressed for time and I just figured we are in this together so if either of us ever feel the need to talk then – "

"Chuck," she cut off his babbling. "Okay."

He felt his jaw starting to drop and consciously clenched to teeth. He was sort of expecting her to dismiss him out of hand. Sarah raised a questioning eyebrow when he didn't say anything and Chuck shook himself out of his stupor.

"So friends?" he asked and quickly wiped his hand before sticking it out to shake on it.

"Friends," Sarah replied. She accepted the gesture, looking down at their joined hands. Then she met Chuck's gaze and, rising on her toes, she pressed her lips against his. Chuck was spellbound by the unexpected touch, but before he could even think to respond, she stepped back.

"What was that for?" he asked, sounding dazed.

"I don't know what kind of marriages your friends have, but there are some other things we should probably get used to as well."

Again Chuck just nodded. He wasn't really comfortable with PDA, but couldn't find the words to tell her. Instead he swallowed audibly. "I should go – " He gestured towards the door. "Go call Ellie."

Without waiting for a response, he fled with long strides, not slowing down until he rounded a corner. Only then did he stop, slumped against the wall and banged the back of his head against it with an "Idiot, idiot, idiot". He was barely aware of Casey walking towards him. The bigger man stopped and fixed Chuck with an odd look before letting out an I-don't-wanna-know grunt and continuing on his way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **See you soon-ish!


	9. Chapter 9

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Back in the day when I first posted this I thanked you for the almost 200 reviews. Now I want to say a big thank you for the nearly 600 – it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside that even after the long hiatus of not updating you guys are still around. A further thanks goes to **AdmiralK **for proof reading this chapter while **Nervert **took a little break, much appreciated.

**A/N: **I know, I know, I skipped a week – had work and some other stuff going on, but thanks for bearing with me. You'll be spared the ramblings today so you can jump right into the chapter. The only other thing I'd like to say is thanks for the reviews (almost 200, wow!) and thank you **Nervert **for being my ever awesome beta and soundboard. Yeah, that was two things, so forgive me for adding a third – **Nervert **hadn't seen the last two paragraphs. I figured I'd surprise him.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>36. Dressed For Success <strong>

"Hey, Sarah," Chuck said from the bathroom door. "Please help?" He looked up from fumbling with his cufflink and his hands froze. "I'm overdressed, aren't I?"

"A little," she replied with a smile. He did look quite handsome in the dark suit and she was amazed at how easily he transformed from sweet and nerdy to suave and confident, at least on the outside.

"Not saying that you don't look nice," he clarified, seemingly misinterpreting her silence. "You do…always look nice, I mean. Better than nice even."

"Thank you, Chuck," Sarah replied to the rather awkward, but sincere, compliment. Yip, she thought, definitely just on the outside. "Last night was a business dinner, kind of," she explained, "but now we just get to be ourselves."

"So I should change, huh?" he asked needlessly and headed for the dressing room where he and Gertrude had moved his stuff to earlier. At first he'd balked at the suggestion, but Sarah had pointed out that the stakes had been raised and that it would be good for the cover.

She slipped her earring into place and followed Chuck.

He was standing in front of his row of clothes, staring, as if waiting for the right outfit to just jump out at him. For the first time it dawned on Sarah that she was sharing her closet. She'd never done that before. The odd item Bryce had left behind sometimes found its way into a forgotten corner, but she hadn't given him as much as a drawer. Had her and Chuck's relationship been remotely real, this would be a big step. But it wasn't, she reminded herself as she reached for a pair of designer jeans, courtesy of Signor Anthony, and a red turtleneck. Then she changed her mind and exchanged it for a black button down.

"It's been a while since someone picked out my clothes," Chuck quipped as he took the items from her.

"It's been a while since I've picked out clothes for someone," Sarah replied, and in an effort to forget how she had done that for her dad after her mother had abandoned them, she added "You don't have to wear that if you don't want to." Maybe she'd been a bit presumptuous.

"No, it's fine," Chuck assured her, "you have great taste. Plus you're paying me to look the part." He immediately held up his free hand in a peace offering. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right."

Sarah shrugged a shoulder, pretending that it was no big deal. It shouldn't have been. Ignoring the unfamiliar twist in her chest, she bent down to retrieve his converses. Chuck accepted them with a quirked eyebrow.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"It's you," she replied before leaving him to get dressed.

"Sarah," he called her back. She turned, looking at him expectantly. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course."

"I'm gonna run slightly late, having to change again, so do you mind helping Maggie get dressed?"

Sarah shook her head feeling a spurt of trepidation. "Chuck, I'm not sure how – "

"It's easy, like playing dress-up with a really squirmy doll." He shot her a reassuring smile. "You have played dress-up before, right?"

She smirked. "Apparently so have you."

Chuck gave her a pained look. "I have a sister. She's older, I had no choice."

* * *

><p><strong>37. Not So Fast, Dora <strong>

Sarah paused in front of Maggie's door and took a calming breath. "It's easy," she repeated Chuck's words before pushing it open. The little girl was lying on her stomach, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she concentrated on turning an elephant orange. As well as the grass, the trees and the clouds, Sarah noticed, as Maggie scribbled across the page.

"Five more minutes, please Daddy," she pleaded without looking up from her coloring book.

"It's not your dad, sweetie."

Maggie's head snapped up and a smile blossomed. "Kitty! Do you want to color with me?"

"Not today, sweetie, we need to get ready for dinner." The little girl's smile disappeared and Sarah felt a hint of dread settle in her stomach. "You can pick out what you want to wear," she offered quickly.

The placation seemed to work and Maggie rolled to her feet, making a beeline for the closet. She emerged seconds later and Sarah tried her best not to cringe. The red corduroy pants were fine and the pink Disney princess top was cute, but together they were a fashion disaster.

Maggie, however, beamed proudly. "It's what Dora wears," she said, "but she doesn't have princesses."

"Who's Dora?" Sarah asked, still a little stunned.

Maggie tilted her head and looked at Sarah as if she'd just asked if the sky was blue. "You've never watched Dora?" she asked, exasperated.

"Can't say I have," Sarah mumbled and made a mental note to talk to Chuck about Maggie's TV habits. Judging by her fashion sense, this Dora did not sound like a good role model for little girls. Instead of pointing that out to Maggie, which would probably not go down well, Sarah stooped to her level and brushed her hair out of her face. "Hey, sweetie, don't you want to wear pants like mine?" she asked. "We matched last night and Daddy thought we looked pretty."

That would've been reason enough for Sarah to consider an outfit, but Maggie had to think about it. "Okay," she finally said and Sarah walked with her to the closet to make sure she selected something in black.

"Good choice." Sarah smiled down at her once the clothes were laid out on the bed. "Now lift your arms please."

Maggie shook her head. "Daddy washes my hands first," she told Sarah.

Something he forgot to mention, Sarah thought as she marched Maggie to the _en suite_ bathroom. At least the process went fairly painlessly, as did getting Maggie into her clean clothes. Then the little girl scooted back onto the bed, holding her feet out so Sarah could put on her shoes.

"That's not how Daddy does it," Maggie pointed out once Sarah had tied one of her sneakers.

Sarah looked from the securely tightened laces up to Maggie. "What do you mean?"

"You're supposed to make bunnies," Maggie replied. "Then one bunny chases the other bunny around the tree and into the hole."

Again Sarah was at a loss. "Can you show me?" she asked. Maggie just shook her head. "In that case, I think we'll go with how I do it."

"But it's wrong," Maggie protested, her lower lip sticking out in what Sarah had a feeling was not a good sign.

"It's not wrong, sweetie, it's just different." She tugged on the lace. "It's still tied, see?"

Maggie tested the knot for herself, her pout not completely gone. Then she looked at Sarah who was still hunched down in front of her. "Is that how mommies do it?"

Sarah felt her chest tighten, but forced a smile. "I think so." She couldn't remember her mother ever tying her shoes, that's what nannies were for, but the answer seemed to satisfy Maggie and she held out the other foot.

"Kitty," Maggie said once Sarah was done and helping her down from the bed, "do you want me to call you Mommy?"

Sarah didn't miss the longing in the blue gaze. Despite what Chuck had said that Maggie had told him in the car, she felt like the villain for putting them in this situation. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Okay," Maggie replied, leaving Sarah no clue as to what she had decided.

Needing to get off the subject, Sarah asked "What do you think we should do with your hair?"

"Can you do it like yours?" Maggie asked, referring to Sarah's French braid.

Sarah blew out a relieved breath. Finally, she thought, something she could do. She smiled at Maggie, tucking a stray hair behind the little girl's ear. "No problem," she replied.

* * *

><p><strong>38. Dinner – Take Two<strong>

Maggie skipped on ahead to the dining room with Chuck and Sarah following closely behind.

"I must admit I'm surprised," Chuck whispered under his breath. "She has a pair of red pants that usually goes with that shirt."

"They don't go," Sarah replied in the same tone.

"But that's how Dora wears it," he said, halfway mimicking his daughter's earnest expression.

Sarah gave him a mock scowl. "Don't you start."

He chuckled. "Seriously, though," Chuck said, "you have to let me in on your secret. Both Ellie and I have tried to break the pink-red combo with no success."

Sarah didn't immediately answer, but he didn't miss the pink tinge on her cheeks that hadn't been there a few moments ago. His curiosity was piqued, but before he could pry further, they reached the dining room. Carina was already seated and Casey was pushing Beckman's chair in.

Chuck scooped Maggie up on one arm and pulled out Sarah's chair with his free hand.

"Thanks, honey." She smiled at him and he returned it instinctively with one of his own before settling Maggie into her booster seat.

"So Chuck," Beckman suddenly addressed him directly and he looked up sharply. He caught Carina in his peripheral vision, warning him with her eyes to not blow it, and he conjured up a smile as Beckman continued. "I'm curious, how did you and Sarah meet?"

The question caught him off guard. He cleared his throat nervously as he sat down, wishing Casey would hurry up and pour the wine already. "Well," he started, not really knowing how to follow that up. His eyes flickered to Sarah who just gave him an encouraging smile, which wasn't helpful at all. He tried to stall. "I guess…I guess like everyone meets."

"Oh, I don't believe that," Beckman replied. "Everyone has a story."

Chuck was given a small reprieve when Lou served the first course. Unfortunately for him Lou was very efficient at her job.

"We met in college," Chuck went with the first thing that came to mind. He reached for his glass of wine and took a sip in order to buy a few more seconds.

"You attended Harvard as well?" Beckman asked. Mindful that his daughter was sitting to his right, engrossed in building what looked like a dodgy teepee with her carrot sticks, Chuck couldn't force the lie past his lips.

"No," he answered, "I went to Stanford." At Beckman's frown he quickly added "We met over the summer, freshman year. Sarah – " He paused, sending another glance her way. "Sarah tells it so much better." He didn't miss the apprehension in her eyes when she looked at him and he felt like a jerk, throwing the ball into her court like that, but this was her business deal after all.

Beckman's attention shifted to Sarah.

"Actually we met at the Buy More," Sarah said. "I went to the store with my dad because I needed a new stereo for my dorm room and Chuck was very helpful." Chuck almost sighed in relief. She was so much better at this than he was.

"Was it love at first sight?" Beckman asked.

"Yes," Sarah replied with a smile at the same time Chuck shook his head and said "No."

"Of course she caught my eye," Chuck quickly amended, not dwelling on the fact that now he wasn't lying. "But I didn't think she'd ever be interested in a nerd like me."

Sarah stared wordlessly at him for a second. "I thought he was charming and sweet and rather cute, in a nerdy sort of way," she finally said. "So I went back the next day and asked him on a date."

"And here we are," Carina interjected, looking from Chuck to Sarah. "Marriage right after college and a very memorable honeymoon." She nodded in Maggie's direction.

The math didn't quite fit, but Chuck didn't point that out. "That's pretty much it," he replied instead, his gaze still locked on Sarah's.

In a parallel universe he could totally see it playing out that way.

* * *

><p><strong>39. Sisters Before Misters<strong>

"That was very smooth, guys," Carina said, throwing a glance over Sarah's shoulder to ensure no one had sneaked up on them.

"Well, Beckman was watching," Sarah responded. She could tell Carina wanted to say more, but was deterred by Chuck's company. Frankly Sarah was surprised herself when he'd joined them in the foyer after checking on Maggie.

"It was mostly Sarah," he said, unhooking Carina's leather jacket from the coatrack. He held it open for her before meeting Sarah's gaze over the redhead's. "I'm sorry I put you on the spot like that."

"Don't worry about it," Carina replied on Sarah's behalf. "Sarah's legendary for thinking on her feet, amongst other things." She winked at Sarah, getting a sarcastic that's-nice groan in return. Carina ignored it as she zipped up her jacket. "You know, Chuckie," she continued, "if I hadn't known better, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me. Hoping to get lucky tonight?"

Chuck almost swallowed his tongue. "I think that's your cue," he said when he got his voice back. "Goodnight, Carina."

Carina raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Nice try, but why don't you run along instead? Give us girls a chance to talk. Who knows," she winked, "maybe we'll discuss you."

Chuck rolled his eyes, but when he opened his mouth to retort, Sarah stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I'll be up in a bit."

"What was that?" Carina asked once Chuck had left with an almost sincere "drive safe".

"I should be asking you that. Why can't the two of you just get along for a week?" Sarah was not in the mood for Carina's antics. It had been two tiring days and she was running on very little sleep. But more than that, she didn't want Carina to find out what exactly the sleeping arrangements were. She knew she'd never hear the end of it.

"He started it," Carina said, sounding like a petulant child.

"Then you end it."

"This isn't about me and Chuck." Carina finally poked the ten foot gorilla in the room. Sarah wasn't in the mood for playing with primates either, but sometimes Carina just didn't know when to let it go. "I can't believe you actually told that story."

"I didn't."

"You did. Granted, you changed some of the details to fit you and Chuck, but c'mon Sarah, this is me. I know the whole reason behind this sale is to get rid of everything that reminds you of your mother, but have you looked in a mirror lately? There are some things you can't outrun."

"You're reading way too much into this," Sarah said.

"Then why don't you just let your VP run Walker Industries? Leave the Buy More in Fat Mark's incapable hands like it's been for years…"

"Big Mike," Sarah interjected.

"Whoever. The bottom line is you're obsessed with this. You can pack your bags tomorrow and leave and everything here will be fine."

"I don't like leaving loose ends," Sarah replied.

Carina threw her hands up in surrender. "Like I said, you're obsessed." Sarah glared at her again and this time Carina took it as a cue to change the subject. "What's the deal with Chuck?" she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the stairs. "How does a guy who went to Stanford end up in a Buy More?"

Sarah had been wondering the same thing ever since she'd read his personnel file. She figured that maybe he'd dropped out to find work to support his child, but Maggie had been born after he was supposed to graduate. He must've realized that he'd get a better job with a college degree. There had to be more to it.

"I don't think that's any of our business," she finally answered, not wanting to give Carina the impression that she actually cared. Another lecture would be sure to follow.

Carina accepted her callousness as she just shrugged before digging through her purse for her car keys. "I'll see you tomorrow at ten," she said as a greeting. "Then we can start hacking out the terms of sale."

"Sounds good," Sarah replied. She held the door open and sent Carina off with a small wave. At the edge of the porch, the latter turned and the mirth dancing in her eyes gave Sarah ample warning that trouble was brewing. "Goodnight," she said quickly and practically closed the door in her best friend's face, but not before she spotted Carina's shocked looked. With her hand on the knob she waited for a knock. It never came, and when she heard a car engine roar to life, Sarah locked the door and switched off the light.

* * *

><p><strong>40. A Plan Falls Apart<strong>

Chuck had been staring at the same page of his comic book for the past ten minutes. He couldn't help but wonder what Sarah and Carina were discussing. Obviously business, he tried to convince himself, or gossip about…he actually had no idea who they would gossip about. Surely not him though. He sincerely doubted that Sarah would tell Carina about the kiss. It wasn't even a proper kiss. It was more like a brother-sister… He abruptly halted the thought and shuddered. It was definitely not _that_.

It was a friendship kiss, he decided. Granted, he was more of a hugger himself, but maybe that was Sarah's thing. Chuck was torn between hoping that it was true and praying that it was not. He would love to kiss her again, but if she caught on that a mere touch of her soft lips against his made his insides flip over, their friendship could quickly turn awkward. Though, if he was completely honest, he wasn't as interested in his newly founded friendship as he was in his newly found friend, despite all his reservations. He'd refrained from dating, mainly out of concern for Maggie. The last thing he wanted was for her to get attached to someone, only to be abandoned all over again, but with Sarah it had already been set in motion and there was nothing he could do to stop it. What if this was his chance? And what if he blew it with his spur of the moment let's-be-friends proposal?

Chuck squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Worst plan ever," he mumbled to himself.

"What is?" Sarah asked beside him, causing him to jump. Apparently he'd been too caught up in his thoughts to notice things like doors opening and closing.

"I…uh…" Chuck stammered and nearly dropped his book. Then, in a moment of desperation, he pointed to the open page. "The villain's plan to take over the world." Sarah tilted her head, waiting for him to elaborate. He would have, had he actually read the damn thing. "You…uh…you need to read the whole series to really understand," he replied. "It's a rather complicated plot."

"I see. Well, I guess the best plans are the simple ones."

Chuck nodded in agreement, deciding that if he didn't open his mouth, it would be harder to put his foot in it.

"You really take this stuff seriously," she said when he didn't speak. Again Chuck just nodded, causing Sarah to frown. "Chuck, is everything okay? You're acting a little strange."

"Fine," he half-croaked.

"Okay good," she replied, though she didn't seem totally convinced, "because if something's bothering you, you can tell me. If I've said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable – "

"Nope," he lied and cleared his throat. "It's completely comfortable on my end."

Sarah regarded him for a few seconds, looking like she wanted to say something more but then she apparently decide against it. She shot him a small smile and turned towards the dressing room.

After she disappeared from sight, Chuck blew out a long breath. "That was close."

"Did you say something?" This time Chuck yelped when she spoke beside him.

"How did you – " he attempted to ask, gesturing between her and the dressing room.

Sarah held up her pajamas. "I just grabbed these to change in the bathroom," she said. "Wouldn't want you to walk in on me if you decide to go check on Maggie."

Chuck opened and closed his mouth, but Sarah was already crossing the room, saving him from a response. Which was a good thing, because the words got lost in the image she'd just put in head. The heat rose from his toes, but he kept absolutely still until Sarah had closed the door behind her. Then, with a groan, he dropped the book to the floor and rolled over, settling in as close to the edge of the mattress as humanly possible without falling out of bed.

**-o0o-**

Sarah gripped the basin, puffing her cheeks and slowly releasing the air from her lungs. She eyed the edge of the sink, wondering if it would hurt to bash her head against it. Perhaps if she gave herself a concussion she would stop saying the first thing that popped into her head. She wasn't much of a talker, but around Chuck her brain-to-mouth-filter seemed to be permanently on the blink. As was her kissing reflexes it seemed. At least she'd come to her senses quickly, and had managed to stop herself from bringing it up a moment ago, but then she just had to go and make a comment about him seeing her naked.

Embarrassment colored her cheeks again, but this time, instead of fleeing, she opened the tap and splashed water on her face. It didn't help matters much, so she turned on the shower with the full intention of taking her time to get ready for bed. She had a feeling that, despite her exhaustion, she was in for another long night.

* * *

><p><strong>A<strong>**/N: **Totally unrelated – if anyone had read my blog recently, I apologize for that last post. First let me say it is all tongue-in-cheek and the result of a little Twitter banter between me and **mxpw**. If you haven't read it, please don't. Like one reader has told me: I cannot unsee that!


	10. Chapter 10

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Hi folks, I ran so late on this chapter that there was no way to have it beta'd, so pardon any mistakes you come across. Happy reading!

**A/N: **This is not an April Fool's joke. I'm actually updating. I know I've skipped last week, so to make up for it I bring you Cover Life instead of A Common Spy Problem (playing favorites), I'm updating two days early, and this has two extra scenes. You have no choice but to forgive me.

Thank you, **Nervert** for beta'ing this, and in record time too. Your karma chips are stacking up.

I don't own Chuck.

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><p><strong>41. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures<strong>

Chuck yawned, running a hand over his face before he forced his eyes open. He frowned when he realized it was still dark and tried to figure out what had awoken him in the early hours of the morning. Then he heard a rustling sound behind him and rolled over. As if sensing his eyes on her, Sarah looked up from where she was hunched down next to the bed.

"Sorry," she whispered with a grimace. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," Chuck replied, his voice still heavy with sleep. He pushed up onto both elbows and frowned. "Don't you ever sleep?" A quick glimpse at the alarm clock on her side of the bed told him that it was barely past four.

"I used to," she mumbled as she tied her shoe.

Chuck heard, but decided to ignore the remark. Sarah seemed a bit grumpy, like she wasn't really a morning person. That just made it more odd that she was dressed before the sun was out.

"I felt like working out," she said in a normal voice, looking at him and even attempted to smile. She stood and tucked at the hem of her top.

Chuck's eyes ran down her body, taking in the oversized t-shirt, yoga pants and trainers. Then something occurred to him. "Are you going for a run? I know this is a nice neighborhood, but is it wise to go out alone while it's still dark? I can come with you if you want. I'm not much of a runner, but I am tall, so that should scare off potential – "

Sarah interrupted his ramblings. "I'm going down to the basement. It's a fully equipped gym."

"Oh, well that's convenient." He didn't really know what else to say, but that didn't stop his mouth. "Do you need a spotter?"

This time Sarah's smile was genuine. "I think I'll skip bench pressing today," she replied. Chuck couldn't tell if she was joking or not, but before he could find out, she was already heading for the door. "Go back to sleep," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. "And don't forget, breakfast is at eight."

Chuck waited until he heard the door click shut before lying back down. Sarah was right, he could use a few more hours. He was surprised that he'd gotten any sleep at all after the picture she'd put in his head the night before. He'd tried not to think about her that way, but he was only human and she was... He shook his head. Not going there again, he thought. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on falling asleep, thanking his lucky stars that Sarah didn't work out in a sports bra.

Then his eyes shot open.

"Not again," he groaned.

**-o0o-**

Sarah didn't bother with the lights. Instead she walked straight to the shelves against the far side and grabbed three towels. It might not have been the best idea she'd ever had, but she was desperate, so when she reached the weight bench, she arranged one towel over it, folded the second one into a make-shift pillow and lay down on her back, covering herself with the third. A couch would've been more comfortable, or one of her spare beds, but the gym was the least likely place anyone would discover her.

She set the alarm on her watch and closed her eyes, trying not to think about Chuck with his eyes sleepy and his curls in disarray. It took some doing, especially after his concern for her safety, which she thought was sweet, but eventually her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>42. Breakfast at the Bartowski's<strong>

Sarah stopped short of the dining room, tugged on her jacket and straightened her spine. A muscle in her lower back stretched painfully, but it was a small price to pay for getting some shuteye. She needed it if she was going to keep her wits about her around Chuck and Beckman. She took a deep breath and finally turned the corner to find Chuck and Maggie at the table eating cereal.

"Good morning," she said when the pair looked up. Chuck smiled around a mouthful of Cheerios and rose to pull out a chair for her. Maggie attempted to swallow all the food in her mouth at once when she spotted Sarah, only to start coughing.

"Easy there, Boo, Kitty's not going anywhere," Chuck said and handed her her Sippy cup before pushing Sarah's chair in. Sarah gave him an appreciative nod, all the while keeping an eye on Maggie to make sure she didn't drown herself with her orange juice. "Diane's on a call with her assistant," Chuck told her. "She said we shouldn't let her hold us up."

Maggie had managed to wash down her breakfast, cutting off Sarah's reply with an overly enthusiastic "Morning, Kitty!"

"Morning, sweetie," Sarah replied, relieved that Maggie had decided to stick to the nickname. It would be less confusing for the both of them. Chuck, oblivious to the subtext, dug into his cereal again.

"Isn't that filled with sugar?" Sarah asked once she'd been served her own breakfast of muesli, fruit and yogurt.

Chuck nodded and swallowed. "We're gonna need our energy today, aren't we Boo?" Maggie mimicked his nod. "Don't worry," Chuck assured Sarah, "she's going to day care today so by the time we get her back, she'll be off her high."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Why does she need to go?"

"Because I can't take her to work with me."

For the first time Sarah noticed the white dress shirt he was wearing under his jacket and the tip of a grey tie sticking out of its pocket. "Chuck, you're supposed to be on leave."

"I know," he replied, "but it's the busiest season in retail. I can't leave Big Mike hanging, and by extension, you. Besides, you're going to be gone all day so I might as well do my bit instead of sitting around here. It's no big deal. If you need to drop by the store, text me and I'll go out on a install or something." He made sense, but she still didn't like it. Before she could argue, Chuck put his spoon down and cleared his throat. "I should probably tell you that I'll be giving my notice today."

That took Sarah by surprise. "Why?"

"Well," he started to explain, sending a meaningful glance Maggie's way, "I've been saving up for a while now to start my own company and thanks to this – " He trailed off, making a vague gesture.

Sarah caught on immediately. "I'm glad I could help." For some reason Chuck didn't look convinced of her sincerity. "You'll be missed at the store," she added, "but your potential is wasted there, Chuck. This sounds like a great opportunity for you." His facial expression didn't change. "I just sounded like a boss, didn't I?" she asked.

"Technically you are my boss," he pointed out and picked up his spoon again.

"I thought I was your friend," she said before she could stop herself.

Chuck looked up from his cereal. "Yeah, but…I guess our situation is a little complicated."

"I guess." Her gaze dropped to her bowl, but for some reason, she'd just lost her appetite.

* * *

><p><strong>43. The Crazy Need Love Too<strong>

He was losing his mind.

That would be the only explanation why he went from wanting to ask Sarah on a date, to offering to be her friend, to picturing her in a not-entirely-friendly way, to pointing out that she was his boss. Why on earth he kept harping on that fact was beyond him. It wasn't even relevant. He was about to quit, as soon as he could muster the courage to actually walk into Big Mike's office and hand him the letter, and anyway, Sarah was selling the Buy More. And as far as their current arrangement was concerned, it was anything but business as usual, so the normal rules didn't apply. To make matters worse, he suspected that he'd hurt her feelings and that made even less sense. Maybe he was indeed losing his mind.

Sighing Chuck's gaze roamed the floor, looking for something to busy himself with. Despite the larger than normal crowd, the Nerd Herd desk had been fairly quiet. He spotted Morgan by the washer-dryers, his elbow propped up on one of the appliances and his head in his hand. Behind the beard, the little guy was sulking. Served him right, Chuck thought. He'd told Morgan that he wasn't speaking to him, and that all gaming nights had been cancelled for the foreseeable future, until he apologized. And then Chuck had decided to let Morgan steam for a bit by not telling him what he needed to apologize for. It would do him some good to reflect on his sins, though none of them were probably as bad as using his daughter as date bait.

Big Mike walked past and Chuck took a deep breath. The letter was burning a hole in his pocket and he wasn't doing himself any favors by putting off the inevitable. He decided to get it over with and kicked his chair back from the desk. Harry Tang sent a disapproving glance his way, but Chuck pretended not to notice as he crossed the store to Big Mike's office. He stopped in the doorway and knocked.

Big Mike bit short of his powdered doughnut, his meaty fingers squeezing it hard enough for a blob of strawberry filling to land on his tie. He inspected the stain and then glared at Chuck. "What is it, Bartowski?"

"I, uh – " Chuck's hand went to his back pocket as he ventured into the room, but then he thought better of it. "I need some advice, Bi…sir." He swallowed nervously, racking his brain for an alternate explanation as to why he was interrupting his boss' between-coffee-and-lunch break. Truthfully, he really had only one thing on his mind all day. "Well, there's this girl…woman actually – "

"Let me stop you there." Big Mike's scowl softened, if only a fraction. "This girl…woman…are you still fishing or did you get a bite?"

It took Chuck a moment to figure out the metaphor. "She's my girlfriend," he lied. That would be the easiest way to explain it, should he have to.

"Yes!" Big Mike grinned and pumped his fist in the air, crumbling his pastry in the process. "I won the pool."

"What pool?" Chuck asked, confused.

Big Mike looked uncomfortable for a moment and then his scowl returned. "Ask your question, Bartowski. I have a couple of bear claws to get through before lunch." He dumped what was left of his doughnut back into the box and reluctantly moved it to the side.

"I need to apologize." Chuck got straight to the point. The less he said, the better. He made a mental note to not drop Sarah's name. That would be a disaster.

"And what makes you think I can help?" Big Mike asked impatiently.

"Well, sir, you are the only other person here who's not…you've been married for quite some time." Chuck refrained from mentioning that he was aware of his boss' extra-curricular activities with the wife of his assman. Though for the life of him he couldn't imagine what kind of woman would marry Harry Tang and then cheat on him with Big Mike. An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine.

Big Mike seemed taken with the idea that Chuck was looking up to him in that department. "What did you do?" he asked.

"It's kinda a long story," Chuck replied, evading the question. "I was just wondering what type of flowers to get that would tell her how sorry I am."

"You get her her favorite kind, Bartowski. The size of the bouquet depends on the size of the screw up."

That wasn't really helpful, but Big Mike had already focused his attention back on the pink box from the Large Mart's bakery.

* * *

><p><strong>44. The Piranha Strikes Again<strong>

Chuck drummed his fingers on the desk, staring apprehensively at the phone. There was potentially only one person that he could call, but he wasn't crazy about the idea.

"He can't attack you through the phone," he whispered under his breath and reached for the receiver. On the third ring a gruff voice answered with "Walker residence".

Chuck swallowed. "Casey, hi. It's Chuck. Please don't hang up." All he got in response was a grunt. "Okay, look," Chuck continued after a beat of silence, "I know we agreed to stay out of each other's way, but I just have one question, one teeny tiny one, so if you don't mind – "

"Get on with it," Casey growled and Chuck could imagine him clenching and unclenching a fist around the telephone cord, pretending that it was his neck.

"What's Sarah's favorite flower?" It almost came out as one word.

"I'm not helping you get into her pants."

"That's not why I want to – " Chuck trailed off when found himself talking to a dial tone. He took a deep breath and punched the redial button. This time the phone barely rang. "Hi Casey," he said quickly, "may I please speak to Lou or Gertrude?"

"No," the butler grunted and hung up on him a second time.

Chuck pulled the receiver away from his ear and gave it the stink-eye. "Thanks for that, you…you…you unhappy person."

"Can I help, Chuck?" Morgan asked behind him. Chuck spun around, subjecting his friend to the same treatment he'd just given the phone. Morgan held up his hands defensively. "Too soon?" He took a step back. "I'll try again after lunch." With that, he jogged in the direction of the home theatre room.

Chuck turned back his computer and stared at the running stickman for a solution. Surprisingly, he got one. He grabbed the keyboard and opened the Internet browser, pulling up a list of flower shops near the Walker mansion. He printed it and grabbed a pen. He stared at the page and randomly picked five stores. Then he hid the list under a pile of invoices to be logged, cracked his knuckles and started typing furiously.

It's been a while since he'd hacked anything, but as soon as the first string of code appeared his fingers almost went into autopilot mode. In the back of his mind he knew what he was doing was illegal, but it wasn't as if he was downloading government secrets, so he pushed his reservations aside as soon as he'd broken through the first firewall. He ran various commands, but came up empty. Then he moved to the second name on the list. Again nothing. On the fourth try he got lucky. Chuck grabbed the pen and scribbled a note on the piece of paper. He decided to check three more stores. One of them confirmed his findings. With a satisfied smile he logged off and picked up the phone.

* * *

><p><strong>45. The Marriage Whisperers<strong>

"If I offer two million more could you throw in half the Pacific Ocean?"

Sarah looked from Beckman to Carina. "Can we make that work?" she asked. Carina gaped at her, bringing her back to the present. Sarah's gaze snapped back to Beckman. "I'm sorry," she said, "I was a little preoccupied."

"More than a little," Carina mumbled. Sarah resisted the urge to glare at her best friend.

"That's alright." Beckman smiled reassuringly. "If I had such a lovely family waiting for me, I'd much rather be home with them than discussing stock figures and payment terms."

"They understand," Sarah replied, concentrating on straightening the papers in front of her. "Okay," she continued, "we were discussing – "

Beckman cut her off by taking the pen from her hand and placing it on the agreement. "We were calling it a day."

"But it's still early," Carina said.

"We have a whole week to figure this out," Beckman insisted and glanced down at her watch. "Besides, it's almost lunchtime and there's this restaurant a friend of mine has been raving about which I'd like to try out." She reached for her purse as she spoke, ruffled through it and handed Carina a business card. "Do you think you can get us a reservation on such short notice?"

"Of course," Carina replied, almost sounding cocky.

While she dialed the number from the card, Beckman turned back to Sarah. "You don't have to tag along. Go surprise that handsome husband of yours. You know it's the little things that keep a marriage happy."

Sarah's jaw started to drop, but she managed to turn her expression into what she'd hoped came across as grateful. Carina muffled a snicker, earning herself a kick in the shin under the desk. She widened her eyes in warning, but Sarah ignored it.

"I think I might just do that." Sarah realized she didn't have to, but she and Chuck hadn't had time to get their backstories straight, and it would be the perfect opportunity to do so.

Seemingly proud of herself, Beckman rose and excused herself to go freshen up.

"So," Carina said once she'd ended her call, amusement clearly written over her face, "I guess we'll be enjoying oysters and champagne while you share a sandwich with the hubby." She slipped her phone into her clutch and stood up. "I have to ask, though, did he make his own lunch this morning or did you help?"

This time Sarah did glare. Carina laughed in response as she made her way across the office. When she reached the door, she turned back. "Just one more question. Does he like peanut butter?"

Sarah scanned the desk for something to throw and grabbed a pencil, but Carina spotted the move and gave her a quick wave before ducking into the corridor. Sarah dropped the pencil back into the holder and sighed. Maybe she should get some work done instead, she thought, but as if on cue her stomach growled.

* * *

><p><strong>46. Conflicting Loyalties<strong>

Chuck ended the call and stared pensively at the screen. Sarah had suggested that they have lunch together. It was the last thing he'd expected, but as she had pointed out, it would be a business lunch. They needed to get their ducks in a row and they couldn't do that when there were so many other people around. He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. Maybe a restaurant wasn't the best idea either, but nonetheless he stepped into the parking lot and scanned the establishments around the mall. The only stores without patrons queuing out the door were the Wienerlicious and the Orange Orange.

"Fried, dead something-on-a-stick or frozen yogurt?" he asked himself, then shook his head. Frozen yogurt was not a meal and how the corn dogs remained in business was a mystery as the current waitress had a habit of burning them to a crisp.

"Hey, Chuck," Morgan said behind him. "Can we talk now?"

Chuck turned and studied his friend. "I don't really have time, Morgan." Then he got an idea. "But if you do me a favor – "

"Anything, buddy," Morgan jumped in. "Name it and it's yours."

Chuck almost felt bad that Morgan was so eager to get on his good side again. Perhaps if he pulled off what Chuck was about to ask, he might consider forgiving him. That is, after they'd had a really long talk and established some strict boundaries when it came to Maggie.

With his orders, and the Nerd Herder's keys, in hand, Morgan gave him a mock salute and disappeared back into the Buy More. Chuck knew it was against company policy to lend out his car, but what was Big Mike gonna do? Fire him? He doubted it, but the worst that could happen would be that he'd be spared from the agony of resigning. The Buy More had treated him well over the years, the long hours and small paycheck notwithstanding, and Chuck couldn't help but think that he was letting his boss and coworkers down.

The fact remained that his daughter had to come first. She was more important than any friendship, job or romantic entanglement. The only problem with that, Chuck realized, was that Maggie was already as invested in Sarah Walker as he was quickly becoming.

* * *

><p><strong>47. Let Sleeping Skeletons Lie<strong>

Sarah pushed open the loading dock doors, not quite sure if it was such a good idea to meet at the store. She stepped inside and her attention was immediately drawn to the cage. Two places had been set at the workbench. Chinese takeout, chopsticks, glasses and a bottle of sparkling apple juice were carefully arranged on a red tablecloth that bore the Large Mart logo. One eyebrow rose slightly when she spotted the center piece – a vase of Gardenias.

"I see you got my message."

She didn't hear Chuck approach and when he spoke behind her, she almost jumped.

"Yeah," she replied, spinning around to face him and they almost collided. Chuck sidestepped her and pulled out one of the desk chairs. "You've gone to a lot of trouble."

He played it off with a shrug. "It wasn't trouble."

"Well, thank you either way." Sarah smiled at him as she took her seat and Chuck responded with a grin of his own.

"You don't have to worry about someone finding us," he told her. "My fellow nerds think I'm down here fixing computers. I even asked them to help."

"And they scattered."

"Pretty much," Chuck replied. He poured their drinks and handed a glass to Sarah before sitting down at the other side of the table.

Sarah reached for the flowers pulled one from the bouquet and inhaled its scent. "These are my favorite. How did you know?"

"I'm not a totally incompetent fake husband," he teased and then grew serious. "Sarah, I'm sorry if I came across as…insensitive this morning. It's just – "

"Complicated," she cut in, shrugging a shoulder. "I get it."

"Yeah, but we're in this situation now, so let's make the best of it."

Sarah nodded, refraining from asking what exactly he was getting at. She didn't usually have trouble figuring out most men, but Chuck, she'd come to realize, wasn't most men. She understood that his priorities were different from the guys she'd dated in the past, with him being a single father, but she couldn't help but wonder what made him tick. Lucky for her, this was the perfect time to find out.

"It's been a while since I had Chinese," she remarked and opened the container.

"Do you like Chinese food?" Chuck asked. "I went out on a limb, but the Bamboo Dragon's sizzling shrimp is fantastic, so I figured – "

This time Sarah cut him off with a raised palm, her fingers entwined around her chopsticks. She dug into her food, popped a shrimp into her mouth and chewed slowly, savoring the taste. Chuck watched her expectantly.

"And?" he asked after she swallowed.

"You're right, it's really good, and yes, I like Chinese food."

Chuck gave her a relieved smile before attacking his own lunch. "So aside from this," he raised his container slightly, "and the gardenias, what else do I need to know about you?"

They exchanged birthdays, likes, dislikes and other basic facts in between bites. They both glanced over their family histories, Chuck mentioned that his parents left without getting into too much detail, and she did the same. After a brief silence he cleared his throat and told her about Ellie. His rendition about his soon-to-be brother-in-law made her laugh. Sarah told him about some of the crazy things she and Carina had gotten up to, carefully steering clear from any topic that might require the mention of her infamous ex.

"So I guess that takes care of all the real stuff," Chuck said as he cleared the table before refilling their glasses. He sat back down, grabbed the takeout bag from the shelf behind him and started to ruffle through it. He pulled out two fortune cookies, handed Sarah hers and put his off to the side. Leaning his elbows on the table, he picked at a piece of thread from the table cloth. "We should probably figure out when our anniversary is supposed to be. Carina told Beckman it was shortly after graduation and that would have been – "

Sarah watched him intently as he did the math in his head. "Why didn't you?" she suddenly found herself asking.

Chuck looked up sharply, his brow furrowed.

"Graduate, I mean," she clarified. Nervous butterflies rose in her stomach when he didn't answer immediately, but instead focused his attention back on the loose thread. "It's in your file," she said in an attempt to salvage the situation, "but it's okay if you don't want to tell my why you dropped out. I was just curious, but it's none of my business."

"I was expelled," Chuck replied. His eyes cut back to hers and she could clearly see the regret, and even a hint of anger. "The administration found some tests under my bed and the next thing I knew, I was on a train back to Burbank."

Sarah was stunned at his confession. It didn't quite fit the man she'd spent the last three days with and she would like to think that she hadn't misjudged him. "Did you steal the tests?" she asked.

Chuck slumped back in his chair, cocking his head to the side. "You know, aside from my sister, you are the first person to actually ask me that. And to answer your question, no, I didn't." He took a deep breath and scratched the back of his neck. "My roommate…I guess you could say he's one of those spoilt rich brats who thought college was an endless party. Eventually his father got fed up and cut him off financially, but he wasn't ready to pack it in so he reckoned...I was studying on a scholarship and he was next in line for it so he framed me for cheating. The real kicker was that the idiot didn't even realize that his grades weren't good enough to qualify for it anymore."

"What goes around comes around." Sarah almost cringed at the cliché, but she didn't know what else to say. She couldn't believe that one human being could be so cruel to another.

Chuck laughed humorlessly. "I don't think he's familiar with that one. He figured that him losing out on the scholarship was as much my fault as the fact that he didn't get it in the first place, so then he decided to really stick it to me." Sarah could tell that he regretted the words immediately. He leaned forward again and unclenched his jaw. "Please forget I said that."

"What could be worse than ending your career before it even started?" she asked anyway, not out of curiosity, but because she found herself wanting him to trust her with his secrets.

"It's not important," he replied almost curtly and reached for his cookie. "The bottom line," he said as he crushed it, "is that Stanford is in the past." He pulled the white strip free from the crumbs and unfolded it. "Now it's time to see what the future holds." He furrowed his brow in concentration as he read the short message out loud. "It's better to be the hammer than the nail. What do you think that means?"

Sarah blinked, trying to catch up to the sudden change in topic. "It's painful to get hit on the head?" she ventured.

"It could also be painful to hit someone on the head. I think I should run it by Jeff. The man can be surprising insightful sometimes when his sober, which is almost never." Chuck's quip elicited a small smile from her. He jutted his chin in her direction. "What does yours say?"

"Let's see." She carefully broke the cookie in half and her eyes ran over the single sentence. Her heart gave a little jolt and her mouth went completely dry.

"C'mon, Sarah," Chuck urged playfully, "the suspense is killing me."

"Too bad," she replied as she refolded her fortune and closed it in her palm. "If I tell you, it won't come true."

"That's for birthday wishes. Besides, I told you mine."

"Did you want to turn into a hammer?" she asked.

"Okay, you win." Chuck grinned. "But promise me that you'll tell me when it does come true?"

Sarah licked her lips and regarded him for a moment. Maybe it was the fluctuating emotions of the past hour, or the fact that her life had been turned upside down by a nerd and a toddler, or that she hadn't gotten the amount of sleep she was used to, but a part of her wanted to believe the ten words of supposed wisdom some random takeout packer had chosen on her behalf, so she nodded slowly.

"You'll be the first to know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Have an awesome week, guys. For those who don't follow me on Twitter or have me on author alert, I actually updated twice today. Check out my blog or my profile here. It's a Chuck/Fringe crossover, so I have no idea where it'll pop up.


	11. Chapter 11

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Hi folks, so this is going a little slower than anticipated, but sitting without electricity for two days really turns life upside down. I don't know how the people in the Dark Ages did it. Thanks **Nervert** for going over this again. In case you guys missed it, he updated Revenge of the Bartowski on Friday, and oh boy, I don't know about you, but I worry about what goes on in his mind sometimes *wink*. Anyway, we have some catching up to do, but not tonight, because Survivor Finale (enough said).

**A/N: **At this point I should probably apologize to Borrowed Hearts – this story isn't following the plot as much as just using the general idea, but I'm having fun and judging by the reviews, so are some of you. Over 250 reviews already, wow! Thanks so much, I always love hearing from you guys. Also thank you to **Nervert**, my partner in crime. He suffers through the annoying editing glitches so you don't have to.

I don't own Chuck or Borrowed Hearts.

* * *

><p><strong>48. The Bartowski Inquisition<strong>

Chuck felt footloose and fancy-free. At least he thought he did – he had no idea exactly what fancy-free entailed. He did feel like doing a little happy dance, but not only didn't he dance as a rule, he was pretty sure that if he broke out a couple of spastic robot moves, the orderlies would unceremoniously escort him upstairs to the psych ward.

"There's that AWOL brother of mine."

"Hey, Sis."

Chuck grinned as Ellie rounded the nurse's station and enveloped him in a bear hug. He'd missed that. She pulled back and punched him in the shoulder. Hard. He had not missed that. "Ow, El. What did I do?"

"You took my niece and disappeared on me."

"It's only been three days," he replied, rubbing the spot that had just suffered some sisterly abuse.

Ellie leaned bank against the desk and folded her arms across her chest. "Which means you should be coming home tonight." She didn't exactly phrase it as a question.

Chuck cringed. "I was going to call, but then I got – " Kissed, his brain supplied. " – side tracked," he said.

"It must have been a pretty big distraction. I haven't heard a word from you since you left. Why haven't you returned any of my calls? Or just picked up a phone to say 'hey, we're still alive'? Do you know how worried I've been? If it hadn't been for Devon I would've driven up to Malibu to see for myself that you hadn't been kidnapped or locked up in a bunker, but apparently it 'wouldn't be awesome' to mess up my brother's big payday." Ellie dropped her voice and added air quotes as she mimicked her fiancé. "Seriously, Chuck. Why didn't you call?"

Chuck cocked his head to the side and studied his sister. Aside from his time at Stanford, they'd lived together their whole lives and he could tell that there was more to her outburst than him not getting in touch. "What's really bothering you, El?" he asked.

"What, you disappearing on me for three days isn't enough?"

"Okay, yeah, it is, but I can tell there's something else."

Ellie took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I went downstairs to see Maggie on my break."

"Is she okay?"

"She's uninjured," Ellie said, but his eyes widened a little nonetheless.

"I know you're a doctor, El, but saying she's fine is a lot more reassuring. She is fine, right?"

"He's asking me," she mumbled under her breath.

"Ellie, did something happen?" His mind started conjuring up everything that could happen to a little girl at daycare. Though his logic told him that his sister wouldn't be so calm if something serious had, panic still rushed through his limbs.

"Kitty happened. Maggie couldn't stop talking about her. Kitty gives her ice-cream when she can't sleep. Kitty makes mac 'n cheese without broccoli. She and Kitty dress the same, do their hair the same – "

Chuck let out a relieved breath. "You should see them together, Sis," he said before his brain could filter the words. "Sarah was apprehensive at first, but she's a natural. She even managed to break the Dora combination."

"Yeah," Ellie deadpanned, "Sarah sounds neat, but you haven't answered my question. When are you coming home?"

He slipped his hands deep into his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Chuck?"

His palms started to sweat a little. It was never a good sign when Ellie pronounced his name like it had two syllables.

"December twenty sixth," he answered quickly, hoping that by some miracle Ellie didn't actually hear him, though judging by her expression, her ears were in fine working condition.

"Please tell me you're joking. And by the way, that is not funny."

"Well," he said, "things got a little complicated." Which appeared to be his new word of the day, Chuck thought. "We need to stay longer." Ellie opened her mouth to reply, but Chuck decided to pre-empt her. "Don't worry about Christmas. I've talked to Sarah and we can still do our Bartowski thing, we'll just be doing it at her house instead of the apartment. She has this amazing cook, Lou, who will help with all the food preparation, and there's Casey, and Gertrude who does the cleaning up so you can take a breather this year – " Ellie's eyes narrowed. "Or not," he added.

"You're staying for at least another week?"

"Yeah, it can't be helped. Sarah's business associate had a change of plans. Her son went skiing with his girlfriend and they had this disagreement – "

"Chuck," Ellie cut him off, "I don't care about any of that. What I do care about is that this was not part of the deal."

"I know," he replied and then dropped his voice. "She's giving me an additional eighty, though. That's one hundred thousand dollars."

To his surprise Ellie didn't even blink at the number. "Is that what your daughter is worth to you?"

Chuck's good mood evaporated. "You're not being fair, Ellie. You were the one who convinced me to do this in the first place. Just because things didn't work out the way it was planned doesn't give you the right to insinuate that I'm a bad father."

"That's not what I meant." Ellie held up her palms defensively. "I don't think that. I'm just worried about Maggie. If I had known that it was going to turn out this way – " She trailed off and ran a hand over her face. She looked exhausted and Chuck assumed she'd put in another double shift, so he decided to cut her some slack.

"It's not your fault, El. But it's not mine or Sarah's either. She realizes the implications and she's really trying to make this easier on everyone."

"Okay," Ellie said. "I would feel better if I had actually met Sarah, but I'll take your word for it."

"Thank you." Chuck didn't doubt her sincerity even though he could spot the 'but' from a mile away and, as always, she didn't keep him waiting.

"Maybe Maggie should stay with me and Devon tonight. A break from Sarah would do her good."

Chuck wasn't taken with the idea at all. Ellie had a point, but Maggie had never had a sleepover without him before. He knew his concern was crazy, technically Maggie would be home with her aunt and uncle and he'd be the one out for the night, but still, it meant separation. At the end of the day, though, he had to suck it up and do what was best for his daughter.

"Okay," he agreed, albeit reluctantly.

* * *

><p><strong>49. Oh Puppy Tails<strong>

Sarah leaned back against her office chair, her eyes immediately drawn to the picture frames on the left hand corner of the desk. One was a fake – a photo-shopped wedding picture of her and Chuck. It looked realistic enough, though if she looked closely, something didn't seem quite right, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Next to it stood a double frame, showing Maggie as a baby on one side and a more recent image of the four-year-old wearing a tutu and grinning widely on the other. Chuck had lent them to her, amongst the others that were displayed around her house. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but his idea of interior decorating was slowly starting to grow on her. The mansion felt more welcoming.

Thoughts of home suddenly spurred her into action. She closed the document on her screen — having reread the last paragraph of the sales agreement three times she'd decided she wasn't going to make any progress anyway — and shut down her laptop. She slipped it into its carrycase and reached into her purse for her car keys. Her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar and she pulled it out. Unfolding the picture, she smiled involuntarily. A much younger, goofier looking nerd was grinning back at her. His hair was longer, the curls making funny animal shapes. She thought it was cute.

Sarah was pulled from her reverie when her phone rang. Chuck's face filled the screen. She quickly folded the picture again and put it in her top desk drawer before pressing the answer button.

"Hi, Chuck. What's up?"

"Hi. I was just wondering if you'd be home anytime soon."

Sarah frowned at the anxious tone in his voice. "I'm actually on my way," she replied. "Did something happen?"

"Hang on," he told her. There was silence on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of a door closing. Chuck continued in a whisper. "You're late. Carina and Beckman are here and things were going well, but then this strange man showed up and he kept…he's giving me these really threatening looks. Well, not exactly threatening, more like…I don't know, like he's onto me…us. We're not committing a federal offence, are we? He looks like an FBI type. Sarah, I can't go to jail. Maggie needs her dad and I – "

"Chuck," she cut in. "Breathe." Once satisfied that he'd done as she'd instructed she glanced at her watch. "Oh shit," she cursed under her breath. She had no idea how time had gotten away from her.

"Oh puppy tails."

"What?" Sarah asked, confused by Chuck's response.

"If you curse around a child, you need to use innocent words," he replied. "It helps if you practice when they're not around."

"Oh." She pinched the phone between her ear and shoulder and grabbed her purse and laptop. "I'll remember that." Then she checked her watch again. "I'll be home in fifteen minutes. Just stay calm, go back out there and let Carina do most of the talking." She was about to end the call when she remembered something. "And Chuck, the FBI Agent is actually my uncle, Roan Montgomery. Don't worry about him. He knows."

"So he is with the FBI."

"He's not with the FBI, Chuck." Another acronym agency maybe, she thought, but didn't voice it.

"And the looks are just my overactive imagination?"

"Probably," Sarah lied. Uncle Roan could be a tad overprotective, but there was no need to point that out to Chuck now. He'd only freak out more.

"Okay, good. One more thing," he added before she could disconnect the call, "Maggie's not here."

That piece of information made Sarah stop in her tracks. "What do you mean Maggie's not there? Where is she? Did you forget her somewhere?"

"That happened once," Chuck replied, "and it wasn't entirely my fault. Granted, if she hadn't followed one of Santa's elves thinking he was Morgan…you know what, not important. She's spending the night at Ellie and Awesome's. I'll explain later, but I just wanted to give you a heads up. For the cover."

"You should've asked me first," she said. "I've hardly seen her all day and – " Realizing what she was saying, Sarah stopped herself. "What did you tell Beckman?" she asked instead.

"She hasn't mentioned it. She seems a little preoccupied with your uncle."

"That was the plan." Sarah glanced at Maggie's pictures one last time before crossing the room and switching off the lights.

"You are a genius," Chuck replied.

Sarah smiled to herself. "I have my moments."

* * *

><p><strong>50. Flirting With Disaster<strong>

Chuck excused himself to go check on dinner, though he doubted his absence would've been noticed. Sarah's plan was panning out as Uncle Roan was charming Beckman off her feet. Chuck was somewhat in awe of the man for making it look so easy. He never really had much luck with women himself, even back when he was trying. He and Jill had become friends after Bryce had introduced them, and their relationship had steadily grown, but when he'd asked Jill out on a date for the first time, he'd been a bundle of nerves. So much so that he'd temporarily forgotten his fear of heights and had pulled a moronic move.

"Hey, Lou," he greeted the cook when he stepped into the kitchen, forcing his memories of the past back to where they belonged – in the past.

The vast height difference between him and the petite brunette caused her to tilt her head back when she looked at him.

"Hey, Chuck. What are you doing back here? Fleeing the scene of the crime?"

"Something like that," he replied.

Lou sniffed, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and then blinked a few times. Chuck gestured to the chopping board.

"I can help if you want. The trick to chopping onions is to bite on a toothpick. That way your eyes don't tear up."

"Does that really work?" Lou asked as she handed over the knife.

"Not at all, actually." He grinned and she gave him a playful shove before turning towards the oven to take out the roast chicken while Chuck concentrated on not chopping his fingers off.

"You know," Lou said, waving the steam from the meat, "women like a man who can cook." She winked at Chuck and then reached past him for the bowl of sundried tomatoes.

He let out a nervous laugh. "That's too bad. My talents don't go further than pancakes and chicken pepperoni, unless you count ordering takeout?"

Lou shook her head and scooped up a handful of onions. "That's cheating." She sprinkled a last couple of ingredients over the chicken and popped it back into the oven. "You could always take some lessons," she said.

He supposed he should, Chuck thought. If he and Maggie were going to move out on their own, they probably wouldn't be able to survive on cereal and pizza alone. Well, they'd survive, but the lack of nutrition might stunt Maggie's growth.

"Are you offering?" he asked.

Lou opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the loud clearing of a throat. Two pairs of eyes turned towards the kitchen door and Chuck swallowed audibly when he saw Sarah's expression.

She did not look happy.

* * *

><p><strong>51. Road Rage<strong>

Sarah abruptly turned and made her way towards the living room. She heard Chuck following, but didn't slow down. Schooling her features, she rounded the last corner, though not fast enough.

"Sarah, hey, hey, hey." He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, trying, and failing, to force a smile.

"That's definitely a something-nothing." He ducked his head to keep her gaze. "Is this about Maggie?" he asked.

Sarah shook her head. How would she even begin to explain this to him? She was paying him to pretend to be her husband. She should not be getting jealous…she wasn't jealous, she corrected herself, she was angry. He was flirting with the cook for all to see. Beckman could have walked in and everything could've been wrecked. And how cliché was that – the husband and the help?

"Okay," Chuck said slowly, drawing out the syllables. "Are you going to tell me what's bothering you or do I need to keep guessing?"

"Traffic," she replied, keeping her voice low. This was not the time or place to confront him. "It always puts me in a bad mood. I'll be fine in a minute."

Chuck raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "But you made it home in record time. How much traffic could there have been?"

Sarah huffed, mentally kicking herself for the lame excuse. "Chuck, you're not helping."

"Okay," he said again, "sorry." He checked his watch and then leaned back against the wall, folding his arms and staring at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a minute."

His sincerity about something so ridiculous caused her animosity to flare up again. On the surface he really seemed genuine and nice, but deep down all men were the same. He'd set up a really nice lunch earlier and now she'd come home to find him… She wasn't jealous, Sarah reminded herself. And fortune cookies were a stupid gimmick, just words on a strip of paper. She squeezed her eyes shut and ran a hand through her hair. Then she took a deep breath, and only when the knot in her chest felt less tight did she open her eyes.

"Better?" Chuck asked.

She gave him a silent nod and gestured over her shoulder. "We should get in there."

Chuck straightened and offered his hand, but she pretended not to notice. Instead she turned on her heel and led the way, wondering how difficult it would be to find another cook.

* * *

><p><strong>52. Choking on a Pearl<strong>

Chuck stole a glance at Sarah, but it was her uncle who caught his gaze. Roan narrowed his eyes causing Chuck to cast his own back down to his plate just as Sarah looked up. They'd played that version of eye-tag at least four times in the past twenty minutes.

Despite Sarah's reassurance, Chuck got the distinct feeling that her uncle didn't trust him. He could relate. If Maggie were to ever invite a complete stranger into her home for whatever reason … the thought was too disturbing to even consider. What he did not understand was Sarah's sudden mood change. They'd had a great time at lunch, and she'd seemed fine when he'd spoken to her over the phone, but she'd practically ignored him since their exchange in the hallway. He didn't buy her excuse for a minute. His gut told him he'd screwed up for the second time, though he'd been racking his brain to figure out what he'd done. All he came up with was the fact that he'd let Maggie stay over at Ellie's. Sarah's reaction to the news had been surprising, but she'd assured him that was not it and she had no reason to lie about that.

Casey and Lou served dessert, giving Chuck the opportunity to try and catch Sarah's attention again. He failed for the umpteenth time, but did catch something unexpected. Sarah gave Lou a look that could refreeze the polar caps melted by global warming, except that it was gone so quickly he doubted what he'd seen. Puzzled, he took a bite of his chocolate mousse cake. It literally melted on his tongue. The dinner had been fantastic too, so he saw no reason why Sarah would be angry at Lou. Maybe she served something Sarah didn't like, but he was sure Lou would know better, given how long she'd been on the Walker staff. He shook his head, thinking that maybe he'd imagined the whole thing.

"Don't you like the cake, Chuck?" Beckman asked.

Startled he almost dropped his fork, but managed to hold onto it after some juggling. "No." He shook his head again and then changed it into a nodding gesture. "Yes." Beckman was still looking at him expectantly, apparently waiting for him to elaborate. "I was just thinking that Maggie would enjoy this." He sent a silent apology to the universe for shamelessly dragging his daughter into his lie. "It's her favorite."

Beckman gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure her aunt and uncle-to-be are spoiling her rotten as we speak. Does she see them often?"

"We let her stay over once a week," Chuck lied again, pushing down the wave of separation anxiety that had been hovering just below the surface all evening. "Ellie and Maggie are very close."

"It sounds like you are a very close-knit family," Beckman replied, then turned to Roan and winked. "Those of you who don't gallivant around the globe for a living."

"The world is my oyster," the older man said, lifting his martini glass in salute. He'd opted for a liquid dessert and Chuck was starting to think that fermented potatoes and olives were his staple diet. "But it seems that I found a pearl right here at home," Roan continued, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Beckman blushed and smiled at him, but the smile faltered almost immediately as she turned quickly to Sarah. "Oh my gosh, I wasn't thinking. I am so sorry."

"Why?" Sarah asked, a little bewildered. "I'm really glad you hit it off."

"Oh, I'm not apologizing for that." Beckman sent Roan a sly glance. "I'm ruining your date night. That's why Maggie's at her aunt's, isn't it? She babysits so you and Chuck can spend some time alone together."

It was Sarah's turn to blush and Chuck cleared his throat to distract Beckman. "It's no big deal," he replied before Sarah could. "We can skip a week."

"Absolutely not," Beckman said. "I don't want to put you out any more than necessary." Chuck wanted to contradict her, but didn't get the chance. "If you don't mind rescheduling for tomorrow night, Roan and I will gladly watch Maggie." She addressed Roan again. "I'm sure you'd want to get reacquainted with your great-niece after being gone for so long."

"That's really not necessary," Sarah jumped in. "Chuck and I will do something extra special next week to make up for tonight."

Beckman waved her off. "Nonsense. Besides, I look forward to getting to know your uncle and daughter better."

Both Sarah and Chuck turned to Roan for help, but he was busy trying to extricate a swallow of vodka from his lungs. All he could manage was a less than enthusiastic smile and a nod. Beckman gave the 'married couple' a satisfied smirk. "It's settled then."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well, you've asked for jealous Sarah, but honestly, I've planned her all along. Up next: Revenge is a dish best served without tequila. Or should that be with? Stay tuned to find out.


	12. Chapter 12

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **One chapter closer to a new update. *chews nails*

**A/N: **I'm gonna jump right into the thank you's today:

Firstly to **Nervert** who hasn't jumped this crazy ship yet. You do wonders for my self-esteem and my grammar. To **quistie64** – even though you burst my bubble by subtly pointing out that kids don't come with off switches *wink*, Maggie wouldn't be as believable without you. To **BDaddyBL** who stepped in on very short notice and finished the beta in **Nervert**'s absence. That was a really fun back and forth. To **AgentInWaiting** for supplying me with valuable information on blood alcohol levels. To **mxpw** for 'confirming' Sarah's weight. See? We do research.

You're curious now, aren't you?

Before you skip ahead to the chapter, though, thank you for reading and especially for reviewing. I'm still in awe about the number of responses to this story.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>53. The Impossible Reservation<strong>

Chuck stood in front of the row of teddy bears, his arms crossed, drumming his fingers indecisively against his elbow. He never knew the _I'm sorry_ range was so extensive. None of the bears, however, conveyed the message _I wish I knew what I'd done wrong_.

After last night he was sure that Sarah's animosity, or at least the bulk of it, was directed at him. When she'd finally emerged from the bathroom, she'd slipped into bed with a barely audible "goodnight" and had turned her back to him. He could practically feel the temperature under the comfy duvet plummet several degrees. He hadn't gotten any sleep himself and had spent the night staring at the ceiling. By four thirty Sarah had gotten up, had changed into her workout gear and had left the room without so much as looking at him. Three hours later he'd found himself alone at the dining room table, not in the mood for his cereal, but eating it anyway under Casey's watchful eye. The big man had begrudgingly served him, giving Chuck the option to either eat, or lose a limb. Apparently Casey had eyes and ears everywhere and his hostile demeanor had confirmed Chuck's suspicions further – he was in the doghouse and he had no idea why.

The same as Morgan, he thought and sighed. He should probably make time and have a chat with his bearded friend. That way, at least one of them would be put out of their misery.

Big Mike stepped up next to Chuck, thoughtfully chewing a bite of chocolate éclair. He swallowed, scanned the bears and then turned to Chuck. "The flowers didn't work, huh," he said.

"No, it did," Chuck replied, regretting his honestly immediately when Big Mike was speechless for a second and then burst out in a boisterous laugh, causing most of the patrons to look at them. Oblivious to the attention, he slapped Chuck on the back.

"Twice in one day?" Big Mike coughed once his laughing fit was over. Then he shook his head in disbelief and dropped his voice so only Chuck could hear. "Between you and me, I'm stepping out on my lady and I don't get into trouble _that_ much."

"Uh, that's good to know," Chuck replied, not sure if that was the right thing to say. He would've pointed out how crappy it was to be on the receiving end of a cheating partner, but what went on between his boss and the lady Big Mike was none of his business. Besides, Chuck thought, apparently he had enough problems of his own.

"This girlfriend of yours – " Big Mike said before he took another bite of his treat, leaving Chuck in suspense until he'd chewed about half a mouthful. "She sounds high maintenance." Chuck discreetly stepped out of the way of the tiny spit laden projectiles as Big Mike spoke. "Are you sure she's worth the trouble?"

The question gave Chuck pause. He and Sarah weren't dating. There was no reason for him to go out of his way to apologize. But still, he hated to see her upset. Before he could come up with an answer for Big Mike, his cell phone rang, the screen showing Awesome striking a body builder pose. Chuck excused himself and as soon as he entered the home theater room for some privacy, he answered the call.

"Got your beep, bro," Devon said without preamble. "What's up?"

Chuck quickly explained his dilemma. He'd figured that it was a safe option to take Sarah out to dinner, but as he didn't move in the same circles as the rich, he had no idea where to make a reservation or even how to get one on such short notice. "And Devon," he ended, "I need you to be awesome about this. Not a word to Ellie. You know how she gets."

"No problemo," Devon said. "Have you ever heard of Totoraku?" he asked.

Chuck eyebrows knitted together as he scratched the back of his head. "Can't say that I have, no."

"That's the beauty of it. It's the most exclusive restaurant in L.A. and very few people know it exists."

"Okay," Chuck replied, rather puzzled. "How would I know if the food's any good then? Do the critics like it?"

"No idea," Devon replied. "No one's allowed to write about it. And forget about getting a reservation. Unless you know the chef or a customer recommends you, they won't even answer the phone."

Well that's helpful, Chuck thought sarcastically. He was about to share the comment with his soon-to-be brother-in-law, but didn't get the chance.

"Does eight o'clock work for you?" Devon asked.

"To do what exactly? Take Sarah to a restaurant so we can sit on the sidewalk and stare at it all night?" Chuck didn't mean to be snarky, but it seemed that nothing was going in his favor today.

"Of course not, Chuckster." Devon laughed, oblivious to Chuck's mood. "I know the chef. Probably should've mentioned that. I treated Mr. Oyama last week and he was so grateful he gave me the restaurant's real number and promised me a table anytime. Give me thirty minutes and you'll be all set."

Chuck heaved a relieved sigh. "Devon," he said, never being more sincere, "you are truly awesome."

"I know, bro," Devon replied. "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>54. A Spanner in the Works<strong>

Getting an early start had paid off. They'd managed to finish the first draft of the sales agreement by lunch, after which Sarah had treated Carina, Beckman and herself to hot stone massages at a local spa. Feeling relaxed to the core, she slipped into her little black Versace. Tonight was just what she needed – a break from the insanity that had become her life.

She'd managed to put Chuck out of her head for most of the morning by focusing on work. By the afternoon she'd decided that what had happened last night could actually be to her benefit. If Chuck were to cross the line with Lou, she'd have a legitimate reason to kick him out of the house. Then she could play the sympathy card to get Beckman to go through with the deal. But halfway through her massage reason had won out and she'd realized that the lie wouldn't hold up. How on earth would she explain that she had willingly given up custody of her daughter to her cheating husband? She was stuck with Chuck Bartowski, at least for the time being.

Just as Sarah had zipped up her dress the bedroom door was flung open.

"Sorry I'm late," Chuck said, a little out of breath, "but there was an avocado explosion at the store and you won't believe the damage it could – " He stopped talking when his gaze fixed on her, her hand still on the zipper tab, and his eyes grew wide. "I should've knocked."

"It's okay," Sarah replied, cutting herself short before she said something stupid again like a few nights ago. She bent down to retrieve a pair of shoes. "The bathroom's all yours," she told him as she made her way to the dressing table.

"Thanks. I'll be done in two ticks." Chuck literally jogged past her and closed the door.

Trying her best to ignore the sound of the shower, Sarah started to carefully apply her makeup. She was almost done when Chuck reappeared, wearing only a towel. Her eyes travelled unintentionally and she caught the dark dusting of chest hair covering his pecs before her gaze snapped back to her own reflection. She lifted the mascara brush, pretending that she hadn't looked.

"I forgot my clothes," he said sheepishly and, without waiting for a reply, hurriedly crossed the room. Sarah caught another glimpse of him in the mirror. She'd imagined him being lean and gawky, but to her surprise that wasn't the case. He didn't have washboard abs or clearly defined biceps, but she could make out the muscles in his back move with every stride. Actually he was pretty average looking, which didn't explain why her pulse suddenly quickened and she was having trouble swallowing.

Tearing her eyes away from the towel hugging his butt, she took a deep breath in an effort to return her body to its natural rhythm. It had just been a while, she told herself, ignoring the little voice that tried to remind her that her breakup with Bryce was a mere three months ago and that the excuse didn't fly.

"Our reservation is for eight," Chuck said as he stepped back into the bedroom, pulling Sarah from her thoughts. Now dressed in a dark suit with the top button of his blue shirt still undone, he looped his tie around the flipped up collar. Without tying it, he sat down on the bed to pull on his dress shoes. "Even with traffic we should easily make it."

"What reservation?" Sarah asked.

Chuck looked up from his laces, meeting her gaze in the mirror while his fingers kept working. "For dinner."

Sarah turned her stool to face him, chewing on her bottom lip. She'd probably have to redo her lipstick, but that was the furthest thought from her mind. "Chuck, I'm not going out with you tonight."

At her response his hands froze. "But Beckman is expecting us to go on a date."

"She's expecting us to leave and return together. Carina and I are going to a club in West Hollywood, but if I'd known – " It didn't occur to her that Chuck would assume that they'd go on a date to keep up appearances.

"That's okay," Chuck cut in, "it's no big deal. I should have asked." He turned his attention back to his shoes. "So I guess we'll come up with a cover story for where we've supposedly been," he said without looking at her. The indifference in his tone threw her and Sarah had to remind herself that she was angry with him.

"That's the plan," she replied lightly. She straightened and gathered her purse and jacket from the bed.

Chuck got to his feet too and gave her a once over, his face unreadable. "You look nice by the way," he remarked before disappearing back into the bathroom.

* * *

><p><strong>55. The Babysitter's Club<strong>

Chuck closed one eye, cocked his head to the side and assessed his tie in the mirror. "Straight enough," he told his reflection. Then he ran his fingers carefully over his curls and once he was satisfied that he'd caught and fixed every unruly one, he smoothed out his jacket.

He heaved a sigh. "All dressed up and nowhere fancy to go."

He considered swinging by Morgan's to have a long chat about the do's and don'ts when it came to your best friend's daughter, and maybe to play some Duck Hunt, but the Armani and curfew would be very hard to explain. His second thought was spending time with his sister, but a text from Ellie had informed him that she was working. Devon was home, but the last time he'd 'hung' with Awesome, it had been rather literal. The blood still rushed to his head every time he thought about being dangled by his ankles from whatever Devon had called that particular torture device.

His options were severely limited. Going to the restaurant by himself seemed a little pathetic so he settled on a movie. He would ignore any odd stares he got due to his attire, find himself a dark corner in the theater and have popcorn for supper. With his mind made up he went back into the bedroom, grabbed his wallet and headed for the door.

Sarah was waiting on the landing. "Ready?" she asked. He nodded and almost jumped back when she reached for his tie and readjusted the knot. "Then we should probably go."

She turned and made her way downstairs with Chuck following a step behind, still embarrassed that he'd just assumed that Sarah would want to spent time with him outside of their arrangement. He didn't know what he was thinking. Absorbed in his thoughts, he almost bumped into her when she suddenly stopped in the living room doorway.

"Maggie, don't drink that!"

His eyes automatically snapped to his daughter, who'd been sitting at the coffee table coloring. Her little hands were awkwardly wrapped around a martini glass and she was about to take a sip when Sarah had startled her. She jerked, causing the glass to tilt and its contents to spill on her shirt. Chuck jumped into action, but Sarah beat him to it. She stooped down to Maggie's level, carefully took the glass from her and handed it back to her uncle. "What were you thinking?"

Chuck missed Roan's reply. Maggie's lower lip had started to quiver and he knew tears were not far behind.

"Are you mad at me?" Maggie asked Sarah in a small voice.

"No one's mad at you, Boo," Chuck replied as he knelt next to Sarah.

"It was an accident," Sarah said, running her hand soothingly up and down Maggie's arm. The little girl didn't seem convinced. "It wasn't your fault, okay?" she tried again with a comforting smile and wrapped her hand around Maggie's before straightening. "Why don't we go change your clothes and it will be like this never happened."

Chuck got to his feet too just as Beckman entered from the kitchen. "What happened?" she asked when she spotted the stain on Maggie's shirt. Roan averted his eyes, if only for a second, but Beckman didn't miss it. "What did you do? Have you never been around kids before?"

So much for that romance, Chuck thought when Roan nervously cleared his throat under Beckman's unwavering gaze.

"Not since this one was little," Roan answered, gesturing at his niece, "and that was decades ago."

Sarah's jaw dropped in shock and Chuck decided it was a good time to make a run for it. Maggie had started to cry, so he scooped her up, forcing her to let go of Sarah. He lifted her shirt and blew a raspberry on her tummy, both to distract her and to avoid getting soaked in Vodka himself.

"I'll go change her," he said to no one in particular before turning to leave the room.

* * *

><p><strong>56. Can't Shake That Ball and Chain<strong>

"So I take it the old ball and chain is getting a little heavy," Carina quipped once they'd taken their seats at the end of the bar.

Sarah gave her a sour look. "One more word about my fake marriage and I'll have your name added to the terror watch list and go tour Europe by myself."

"Fine," Carina said. "But if there's something you want to talk about – "

"I'm good," Sarah cut her off, even if she was far from it. Chuck had been unusually quiet during the drive to a nearby mall and she couldn't help but feel like she'd kicked his puppy when she'd watched him disappear through the doors with sagging shoulders. She knew he hadn't been crazy about the idea of leaving Maggie with someone he barely knew, but she'd assured him that she'd asked Casey and Gertrude to keep a close watch, even if Beckman had promised to not let Maggie, and Roan in particular, out of her sight.

Deciding to stick to her own resolution for the evening, Sarah consciously pushed the thought aside when the bartender served her and Carina drinks they hadn't ordered.

"From the gentlemen," he said, indicating to a group of men sitting at a table nearby.

With perfectly coifed hair and blinding smiles, Sarah wouldn't be surprised if they'd just stepped off the pages of the latest GQ. Bryce-clones, she thought to herself. Nonetheless, she and Carina politely tilted their glasses in a thank you gesture. One of the men stared intently at Sarah before turning to get the barman's attention.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the barman said when he returned, "but the gentleman wanted to make sure you understood that the drink was just a friendly gesture and nothing more. They don't want any trouble."

Carina barely stifled her laugh when Sarah asked "What kind of trouble?"

The barman wiggled his ring finger. Sarah caught on when her gaze dropped to the diamond and wedding rings that adorned her own.

"Of course." She offered him a polite smile and waited until he'd left before turning to Carina. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Carina held her hands up defensively. "You threatened to turn me into a terrorist on paper."

Sarah huffed in response. The night had started on a low point and she wasn't going to extend that by arguing. Instead she tried to slip the rings off her finger, but couldn't manage to get it past her knuckle. "Oh, frog legs," she mumbled just as the background music stopped.

This time Carina couldn't help herself and chuckled. "What was that?"

Sarah, not in the mood to be made fun off, replied sarcastically. "I'm trying something new."

* * *

><p><strong>57. Flower, Flower on the Wall<strong>

It was junior high all over again. Sarah watched as yet another man cut in, his attention so focused on Carina that he'd missed the scowl on his predecessor's face. The latter caught her eye and Sarah gave him a small smile. It was acknowledged with a polite chin jut before he returned to his table without so much as taking a step in her direction. Of all the nights for chivalry to be alive and well, she thought as she pushed her empty glass across the bar and indicated for another. At least the bartender mixed a mean mojito. She absentmindedly twisted the rings around her finger while she waited.

Sarah contemplated giving Casey a call, but she'd already done that an hour ago and he'd assured her that everything was under control and that Maggie was asleep. Gertrude had confirmed it when Sarah had phoned her half an hour later. She'd also added that the little girl was the perfect angel and there were no other incidents to report.

"Man, I'm exhausted." Carina slipped onto the empty barstool next to Sarah, snatched her drink away as it was served and, ignoring the straw, taking a big gulp.

"Hey," Sarah protested, "get your own."

"Yours always tastes better." Carina winked suggestively. "It's such a shame we took the geek out of play. He's sure wearing that suit. Talk about pretty."

"The word is sexy. You don't refer to a guy as 'pretty'," Sarah pointed out, belatedly realizing that she'd walked right into Carina's trap when the redhead smirked.

"So you've noticed."

Before Carina could embark on yet another lecture, Sarah jerked her head in the direction of the dance floor. "Having fun?" she asked, almost managing to not sound sarcastic.

"Someone should," Carina said, taking another sip of Sarah's mojito. She scrunched up her nose. "Wow, these are really strong. How many have you had?"

"Three, give or take," Sarah lied. Three was when she'd stopped counting. She missed the barkeep holding up five fingers to Carina behind her back.

"Well," Carina said, "at least your night is about to improve." She indicated towards the entrance and Sarah turned her head, groaning when she spotted Chuck.

"What's he doing here?"

"I called him," Carina replied, sounding very proud of herself. "Friends don't let friends spend the evening playing wallflower and it's the best I could come up with on such short notice."

Sarah huffed, gesturing towards Chuck as he fumbled his way through the crowd. "Which part of 'not a word about my fake marriage' was unclear to you?"

"The part where you showed up wearing those," Carina retorted, pointing to Sarah's rings. She'd tried her best to keep her left hand hidden all night, but somehow word had spread quickly throughout the club.

"I thought you said it was a bad idea," Sarah replied in a last ditch effort to get Carina to take pity on her and not leave her alone with Chuck. After their earlier exchange it would just be awkward.

"When have you ever listened to me?" Carina asked and held a palm up before Sarah could respond. "Without getting into trouble," she added. Sarah had no comeback for that. "Besides," the redhead continued, "he's got that tall, dork and sort of handsome thing going on. Maybe you should reconsider."

"Oh don't let that fool you," Sarah told Carina. "Underneath it all, he's just like the rest of them."

"One can only hope," Carina replied and slipped of her perch. "Just go easy on him. He looks like the type who startles easily." She gathered her purse. "And don't wait up for me," she said as she sent a seductive smile and a small wave over Sarah's shoulder to the opposite end of the bar. "I'm taking Giovanni home so I can…brush up on my Italian."

Before Sarah could enquire whether she was talking about the man or the language, not that she really wanted to know, Carina was gone.

"Hi," Chuck said beside her, leaning in close to be heard over the music. Sarah could feel his breath on her cheek and she forced herself not to look at him until she sensed him pull away. Seconds later he was occupying Carina's seat. "Carina said you needed a ride."

That made no sense, Sarah thought. Though her mind was a bit hazy – maybe that give-or-take mojito was one too many – she distinctly remembered that they'd come with her car. She wanted to tell Chuck that, but then she noticed his tie was slightly off center and his hair was messier than before, probably from running his fingers through it like he had a habit of doing, so instead she asked "Do you want to dance?"

Chuck was surprised, but only for a second. "I'm not much of a dancer, sorry."

Sarah acknowledged the statement with a small nod. She didn't know what she'd been thinking anyway. After that the conversation dried up and they sat in silence for a while, until it became too uncomfortable.

"You're welcome to dance with someone else if you want," Chuck said. "I won't be offended."

"I'm good, thanks," Sarah replied, fighting the blush that was starting to rise up from her neck. She wasn't about to admit that her evening had been a bust, especially not after she'd turned him down earlier.

Chuck opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips when his attention was diverted by the bartender placing a tequila shot, with all the trimmings, in front of him. "They want to know your secret," man behind the bar told Chuck, indicating to the same group who'd ignored Sarah after they'd sent over her first drink. Chuck's eyes darted bewildered from them to the barman to Sarah and back to the barman.

"Uh…tell them – " he stammered, "a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." He winced at the cliché, but the bartender accepted the answer and left to convey the message. A cheer went up from the other table and Chuck turned back to Sarah, flushing to his roots. "What's that about?"

Sarah gave him an innocent look and half a shrug. "Aren't you gonna drink that?" she asked, changing the topic.

"I probably shouldn't, seeing as I'm driving."

"It would be a shame to let it go to waste," Sarah said and reached over unceremoniously to claim his drink. She'd decided she was going to take Carina's advice and have a little fun. If Chuck wanted to sit next to the bar, stiff as a lamp post, that was his prerogative.

She licked the side of her fist before covering the spot with a layer of salt. With the shot glass in hand, her eyes locked on Chuck's, and when he swallowed nervously, she got an idea.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm gonna show you and every guy here just what you've been missing."

His eyes widened slightly at her sultry tone and got even bigger when she slowly ran her tongue over the white granules. With a smirk she tilted her head back and poured the liquid down her throat. Ignoring the burn, she slammed the glass down on the counter and picked up the lime wedge, offering it to him. Still stunned, Chuck instinctively bit into it. Before he could react to the sour sting on his tongue, Sarah's hand snaked around the back of his neck and she pulled his head down.

It took him a couple of beats to respond and when he did, Sarah's eyebrows shot up in surprise. His lips were warm and inviting, and despite his claimed aversion to PDA, he kissed her back with equal fervor. Lime aside, he tasted faintly like popcorn and milk duds. The sour salty sweet combination was strangely intoxicating. Chuck's hand had found its way to her hip as he shifted forward on the barstool in an attempt to close the gap between them. Sarah's free hand fisted the front of his shirt to prevent him from taking a tumble. Where the lime went, she had no idea – she was too focused on the way his mouth moved against hers.

The nerd had skills.

As his fingers dug deeper into her skin, a whistle broke through the blood rushing in her ears, reminding Sarah that they were in a public place, and she broke off the kiss, trying to not make it obvious that she was short of breath. As it was, Chuck could probably hear her heart pounding. His eyes were closed, however, and she considered making a beeline for the ladies room, but he still had her in his grasp and, between the effects of the alcohol and that kiss, she doubted that her legs would work properly.

Finally, Chuck's hand fell away and he opened his eyes slowly. He just sat there, as dumbfounded as she was, and when another tequila shot appeared in front of him he grabbed and downed it, ignoring the salt and lime routine.

"I think we got the gist," he croaked out after a small coughing fit.

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again without saying anything. An apology seemed unfitting, and telling him it was a mistake would be insulting – both would've been lies anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** Just a note – according to Chuck math, if you throw Sarah and Carina together they are going to end up at a bar and drink tequila. Basically, **quistie64** wrote SOMII before she read this chapter, and I wrote this without reading SOMII, so any similarities are pure coincidence.


	13. Chapter 13

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Welcome to post 13 on Friday, the 13th. Thanks for rereading the rewritten chapter rebeta'd by the awesomely fantastic, **Nervert. **Hope you all had a lucky, lucky day.

**A/N: **Thank you **Nervert **for the great beta job, your support and encouragement, and the occasional whip cracking. And thank you **quistie64 **for your continued involvement in this story and your sage advice when it comes to the little ones. Also, welcome to team Cover Life, **Shawnny, **your input was really helpful.

I don't own Chuck.

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><p><strong>58. Drive and Tell<strong>

If it hadn't been for the slight rise and fall of her chest, Chuck would swear that he was sitting next to a mannequin. Sarah hadn't moved or spoken since they'd pulled apart a good three minutes ago, not that he was in any condition to carry on a conversation. His brain felt fuzzy – whether it was as a result of downing the tequila or being kissed by Sarah was debatable – and the only thing he was fairly certain of was that several eyes were still fixed on them.

They _had _put on quite a show.

And that was all it was, Chuck told himself. Sarah wanted to prove a point and his were the most convenient lips around, though he would never have thought that a fake kiss could be so intense. Either way, he realized that they couldn't spend the rest of the night just staring at each other. The way he saw it they had two options, but even with the jolt of liquid courage, he was not going to venture out onto the dance floor. That would be the quickest way to go from hero to zero in his co-patrons' eyes, unless it was a slow song which didn't require dancing so much as swaying and taking the occasional step, but that would involve Sarah and arms and touching and not being sure if he should pretend for her sake or not. The thought alone made his head spin and his palms sweat.

That left option two.

"Can we get out of here?" he asked.

At first it seemed like Sarah hadn't heard him, then she blinked. "Yeah."

She started riffling through her purse and he used the opportunity to signal the bartender for the bill. After being told that it had been taken care of – how, he didn't ask – he turned back to Sarah who handed him a valet ticket.

"Would you mind getting the car? I need to go fix my lipstick."

Her lips looked fine to him but he didn't mention it, grateful for the reprieve to gather his thoughts before they had to share the cramped space of her sports car. Then the implications of her first question hit him. "Do you want me to drive?" He felt both excited and nauseated by the prospect.

"Yeah. I think I've reached the legal limit two mojitos and one tequila shot ago, so you're less likely to be arrested."

"Okay," Chuck said, "that explains it. Your judgment is impaired so you don't really mean it when you say I should drive your car." And the kiss probably didn't mean anything either, he thought.

Sarah frowned. "What's wrong with my car? Why don't you want to drive it?"

"It's a Porsche," he replied. "I don't know if I'm ready for the responsibility. Plus you know kung fu, so maybe we should leave it here and get a cab, because what if I – "

Sarah cut off his babbling, her scowl gone now that she'd realized he wasn't dissing her ride. "Chuck, it's just a car."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? And how many people, besides you, have driven it?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but when she leaned forward to make sure she had his full attention, she was all seriousness. "You're trusting me with your kid. It's just a car," she said again.

He couldn't argue with that.

"But," Sarah continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "if Carina asks – "

"This never happened."

"Oh, no." She shook her head, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "I want you to tell her. Every little detail."

Chuck laughed quietly. "That'd be mean. Can I tell her even if she doesn't ask?"

"I was hoping you would." Sarah smiled and slid off the barstool. Chuck made a move to get up too, but froze when she reached out and touched his cheek. Her thumb wiped over the corner of his lip and he was positive that he stopped breathing.

"Not my color?" he tried to joke when his voice came back.

"Actually," she replied, letting her hand fall away slowly, "I think it suits you rather well."

Sarah was halfway across the room before it even occurred to him to try and come up with a response.

* * *

><p><strong>59. An Unexpected Observation<strong>

Sarah sighed as she stared at the dark ceiling. Her hand traveled to the empty space beside her. Chuck had claimed that he was too wired to sleep and had opted for some video gaming, and she couldn't help but wonder if that was because of the kiss or the fact that he had driven her Porsche. He hadn't said much on the way home and she was still dying to know what he was thinking. Probably that she was a nutcase, giving him the silent treatment and then kissing him like they had three seconds to live. She could blame the alcohol, but she had no excuse for her behavior afterwards – the kiss had sobered her up pretty good.

What was wrong with her?

"It's just a crush," she whispered to herself. One she was having trouble getting a handle on. Chuck liked Lou and why wouldn't he? She was pretty and perky and Sarah would bet that Lou didn't suck at relationships as much as she did. Granted, Lou seemed a bit immature to raise a child, but ultimately that was Chuck's decision. But he had liked _her_ first, and maybe if she had said it back, he wouldn't even have noticed Lou. She could still tell him, Sarah thought. Or maybe she shouldn't tell him at all. She'd be in Europe in a few weeks, and where would that leave him and Maggie? Of course she didn't have to go, but there was no guarantee that she'd stick around forever. Dating Chuck would mean making a commitment, and commitment wasn't the Walkers' strong suit. Besides, he'd made it clear that he just wanted to be friends. But then, he did kiss her back – talk about mixed signals.

She rolled onto her side and grabbed one of Chuck's pillows, hugging it to her chest. The room seemed eerily quiet without him sleeping beside her. Like it would be once this arrangement was over, she realized. Granted she didn't sleep well when he was around – she'd gotten used to his presence, but she was afraid she'd do something embarrassing, like subconsciously cuddle up to him, which wouldn't be a problem if their relationship were remotely real.

Huffing a frustrated breath, she burrowed into the pillow in an effort to find a more comfortable position. This was supposed to be simple and she was supposed to count the days until the contract of sale was signed and the ruse was over, but now she was caught between the reasons why she shouldn't pursue him and dreading the day he and Maggie would leave.

There was definitely something seriously wrong with her.

She turned onto her back and rubbed small circles over her temples. The pounding behind her eyes had turned into a full blown headache, brought on by too much rum and aggravated by overthinking her life.

Sighing again, she pushed the covers aside and padded to the bathroom in search of some aspirin. Not finding any she went back into the bedroom and pulled on a robe before making her way downstairs. In the kitchen she flipped the light switch and squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden brightness. An amused grunt prompted her to open them again, albeit reluctantly.

"What's so funny?" she nearly growled. Casey shrugged a shoulder and took a sip of his whiskey. It was the type of response she'd expected from him, being a man of few words. "Why are you still up?" she asked as she crossed to the sink and pulled out the first aid kit from the cupboard beneath it. She placed the case on the table, unzipped a side flap and located a bottle of Tylenol.

Casey tilted his chin in the general direction of the den. "Can't set the alarm yet."

"You know," Sarah spoke while filling a glass from the tap, "you could ask Chuck to do it." Again he just grunted. Her head hurt too much to try and decipher what that particular one meant, so instead she shook two tablets from the bottle and washed them down with water. Then she arranged everything as she'd found it and stored the kit in one of the top cupboards.

"That's not where it goes," Casey said.

"Maggie can't reach it there," she replied, mentally kicking herself for not remembering it sooner.

Casey smirked before downing the remains of his drink.

"What?" she asked.

"This isn't what you expected," he answered cryptically and pushed back from the table. She waited for him to elaborate, but he merely stood, took the glass from her and rinsed both before placing them in the dishwasher and drying his hands on a towel. "For what it's worth," he finally said, "you're nothing like her."

The comment surprised Sarah. If it had come from anyone else she wouldn't have believed it for a second, but John Casey had been a part of the Walker household for almost as long as she could remember, and her father aside, he was probably the only other person who'd really known her mother and why she had left. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

"Casey," she called him back just before disappeared through the door. He stopped and turned, folding his arms across his chest to hide his discomfort – "lady feelings" was not his thing. Sarah smiled at him anyway. "Thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>60. Slippers and Cowboy Hats<strong>

Chuck was jostled from his sleep when a knee bumped his. His eyes blinked open and were met by a pair of blue flannel pajama bottoms and white sock clad feet. Yawning, he pushed himself up against the couch cushions and swung his legs to the floor before tilting his head back to meet Sarah's gaze.

"Good morning," she said quietly and held out a steaming mug.

"Morning." His voice sounded croaky and he cleared his throat as he took the coffee from her. "Thanks."

Sarah acknowledged his response with a small nod as she sat down on the opposite end of the couch, one leg tucked under her, cradling her mug. Chuck took a sip from his own and, over the rim, caught her sneaking a glance at him. Her eyes darted away and he didn't miss the faint blush coloring her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Something about her seemed different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He swallowed another mouthful of coffee and cleared his throat. "This is good," he said, if only to fill the silence.

"Surprised?" she asked, her gaze meeting his as one corner of her mouth tugged upwards. "I do know how the coffeemaker works."

What actually surprised him was that she knew how he liked his coffee, though he didn't say it.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" he asked in between sips.

"Well," Sarah said, picking at an invisible thread on her robe, "it's Sunday, so I was thinking some sort of family activity. I think Beckman would expect that."

So it was back to business as usual, Chuck thought, swallowing his disappointment along with the last dregs of his coffee before placing the empty mug on the center table. Not that he knew what to expect after last night. "What did you have in mind?"

"How do you feel about a picnic on the beach?" Sarah asked, lifting her gaze to meet his. "The weather's perfect and I can order a basket from the local deli. We could make a day of it. I have horses stabled just outside the city and I think Maggie would love to – "

"We can't ride," Chuck interrupted.

Sarah raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Have you ever tried?"

"Unless you count plastic horses that go around in a circle, then no," he confessed, keeping his fear of heights to himself. "Isn't it dangerous?" Like that's better, he scolded himself.

"Not if you're taking the horses for a leisurely walk. I don't expect you to race a derby. Maggie can ride with me and I promise we'll stick close to you. You'll be fine." Then she bit her bottom lip, contemplating something. "I should probably get her a helmet, just in case. Do you want one too?"

Chuck was tempted to say yes, but he didn't want to come across as a wimp. "How about a cowboy hat?"

At that Sarah chuckled. "This isn't Texas."

"So I guess a Mountie hat is out of the question too?"

"Who's got a Mountie hat?" Maggie asked as she barreled through the door, not stopping until she'd practically leaped through the air and landed on Chuck's lap. He'd moved his head just in time to avoid getting a face-full of Mr. Oink. "Who's getting a hat?" she asked again, panting with excitement.

"Good morning, Boo," Chuck said pointedly, wheeling her in with one arm for a hug which she promptly returned, squishing the stuffed pig between them. Then she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, Daddy."

"That's better." All he got in response was a toothy grin before she whirled around and broke free from his arms, heading straight for Sarah, Mr. Oink forgotten on his knees. Her "Good morning, Kitty!" could be heard a block away and Chuck caught the slight wince crossing Sarah's face when his four-year-old tackled her. Belatedly he remembered that she was probably still suffering some after-effects from last night's alcohol.

"Easy there, Boo," he said, leaning forward to take Sarah's mug that was dangerously close to spilling coffee all over the couch, "Kitty's not feeling well."

Maggie pulled back immediately, tilting her head. "Are you sick?" she asked Sarah.

"My head hurts," Sarah replied, holding her thumb and forefinger together, "but only a little."

"I can make it better," Maggie declared and was on her feet before Chuck could warn her about standing on the furniture. Her little hands framed Sarah's face and she started peppering her forehead with kisses. He reached out to try and save Sarah from the onslaught, but she blindly swatted his hand away. Apparently satisfied that her remedy had worked, Maggie pulled back. "Are you still sick?"

Sarah shook her head, her expression serious, but Chuck could see her biting back her laughter. "I feel much better, thank you," she said solemnly.

"You're welcome," Maggie replied and spun around before plopping down onto the cushions. With her head on Sarah's lap she stretched out, planting her feet against Chuck's leg. He picked up the pink pig and dumped it on Maggie's stomach. Clutching the animal to her chest, she tilted her head back to look at Sarah. "Is Lou making breakfast?"

"Isn't it a little early for food?" Chuck cut in, earning himself a sour look.

"I'm hungry now." Her gaze bounced back to Sarah's. "Can I ask Lou to make pancakes?"

"May I," Chuck corrected her.

Maggie let out an exaggerated sigh. "May I?"

Sarah smiled down at her, brushing a wisp of hair from her face. "Lou's not working today," she told the little girl, but that didn't dissuade her.

"May _you_ make us pancakes?" she asked Sarah, who was now visibly biting the inside of her cheek.

Chuck fought his own laugh. Teaching his daughter proper grammar wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever undertaken, but it sure was entertaining. He decided to forego another lesson and winked at Sarah. "May you?"

Sarah just shook her head, unable to speak. He was quick on the uptake though. "I don't think Kitty knows how to make pancakes."

"That's okay," Maggie said, "we can have ice cream…may have ice cream," she quickly, though incorrectly, amended.

"Nice try," Chuck replied, playfully pinching her toes. "_I _will make the pancakes, but only if you go put your slippers on before your feet freeze and fall off."

"May I have extra syrup?" Maggie asked, seeming unconcerned about his warning.

"Maybe." Chuck smiled, proud that she got it right, though it was probably a lucky guess. "But slippers first."

"Okay." Maggie shot up and, with Mr. Oink under her arm, took off in the direction of the door.

"No running in your socks!" Chuck called after her. She slowed down, but he suspected that would only last until she was out of sight. "I better go make sure she doesn't split her head open on something," he told Sarah as he got up to follow his daughter.

"Meet you in the kitchen in five?" she asked.

"It's a date," he spoke over his shoulder before breaking into a jog, knowing from experience that four-year-olds were deceptively fast.


	14. Chapter 14

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Last week of rereading, folks. Thank you for joining, I'm having a blast. And thank you **Nervert **for beta'ing this again. After not actively writing for so long, this has gotten me back into the habit, so I should see you here soon with some new stuff.

**A/N: **The following people can be blamed for the delay – Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Joey and Phoebe, sometimes known as Princess Consuela Banana Hammock. Yeah, I took a mini-vacation from life and watched all 10 seasons of Friends. It was fun, I really recommend it.

But back to reality. For those of you not in the know, I started a ten week creative writing course last week. It might cut into my writing time from around week five or so, so please bear with me. I'm trying to better myself for your enjoyment. (That sounded a little dirty, didn't it?) At the same time I want this story to be done by around Christmas 2012, which will be quite fitting, I think. It does mean no updates on A Common Spy Problem, but it doesn't mean I've killed off that story. Just think of it this way – you'll still have some Chuck in 2013.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review this story and everyone who is still reading. I know the previous chapter was shorter than normal, but I wanted to leave you in a happy place, so hopefully this one will make up for that.

I'm about to face-plant, staying up until nearly 3 a.m. to finish this will do that to you. It would of course all be for naught if I didn't have such a speedy beta in **Nervert**, who literally returned it in less than five hours. Thanks, buddy, you're a star. Also thank you, **Shawnny **for your pre-reader comments, they made me smile.

I don't own Chuck.

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><p><strong>61. The Walk of Shame<strong>

Sarah reached for her mug before propping her elbow up on the back of the couch and settling into a more comfortable position. Resting her temple on her thumb she massaged her forehead where she could still feel her skin tingle. Her headache, if not gone, was forgotten as a smile tugged on the corners of her lips. Maggie's 'cure' had been the sweetest thing she'd ever experienced. Truthfully, the only thought she'd ever given children was that she didn't want any, but after seeing how much Chuck adored his daughter, and spending time with the little girl first hand, Sarah found herself open to the idea of changing her mind. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be a pseudo parent just yet, but there was no denying that the Bartowskis had gotten under her skin in a surprisingly short time.

A voice from the doorway pulled her from her thoughts. "Am I interrupting?"

She sat up straight, relieved that it was her uncle and not Carina, who would never let Sarah live it down if she knew what was going through her head. Sarah wanted to reply, then caught sight of him and nearly dropped her coffee, doubling over laughing.

"It's not funny," Roan grumbled as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"So funny." Sarah gasped, searching through the tears for the table to set down her mug. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and stole a glance in her uncle's direction, trying and failing to stifle a fresh burst of giggles.

Roan waited her out, and judging by his expression he did so begrudgingly. Sarah managed to get control over herself and coughed in an attempt to cover up a last snicker. It worked, as long as she didn't look directly at him.

"That's definitely not Giorgio or Hugo," she remarked. She'd never seen him in anything but a tailored suit, so much so that she wouldn't be surprised if he slept in one as well. Wool sweaters were definitely not his style, not to mention a forest green one sporting a really large deer head, complete with a red nose. An amused whimper escaped her throat which she tried to stifle against the back of her hand.

"Two days," Roan said, "she's known me for two days and she's buying me…clothes." He glanced down in disgust. "Who does that?"

"You _stayed over_ after only two days," Sarah pointed out, all sobered up now. "I thought we talked about that."

"You asked me to distract her and that's exactly what I did."

Sarah groaned. This conversation was rapidly heading into disturbing territory. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," she couldn't help but add.

"I always do," Roan replied confidently. "And speaking of sticky situations – " He trailed off, reaching into his pants pocket. "I got you something."

"You shouldn't have," Sarah deadpanned as she eyed the thumb drive he was holding out to her. She had no idea what was on it, but she'd bet her trust fund it wasn't anything good. Then she looked up at him without making a move to take it. "What is it?" she asked.

Roan's gaze bounced from hers to the device in his hands and then to the door. "I ran a background check on your…Charles."

"I didn't ask you to."

"I'm merely looking out for you, kiddo."

Sarah didn't know whether to be touched by his concern or ticked off by his interference in her life, then considered using it as an opportunity to trip him up and find out if he really was a spy or not, but rejected that option. Instead she squared her shoulders and said "If there's anything I need to know, Chuck will tell me."

Granted, she and Chuck had only known each other for a week and that wasn't nearly enough time to discover all each other's secrets, but this was definitely not the way to do it. Besides, Chuck had already told her about Stanford, or at least his side of it, and she believed him. She could imagine what it would look like to an outsider, which was probably how her uncle would see it. And even if he'd found anything more, she preferred to hear it from Chuck himself, in due course. She didn't have to be an expert at relationships to know how important trust was, and how easily it could be broken by snooping. Of course she was wary about putting herself out there again, but if by chance Chuck was willing to risk his happiness, and by extension his daughter's, then she could do the same.

"I appreciate you looking out for me, uncle Roan," she continued, "but there's nothing to worry about. Chuck's sweet and passionate – " Sarah paused to give herself a mental slap. Why did she have to say _that_? "He's a great dad," she said to cover up her slip, "and he's responsible and funny and – "

"And honest," he added skeptically.

"When I'm not paying him to lie, yeah," she replied lightly.

Roan studied her for a moment, then leaned forward to place the thumb drive in front of her on the coffee table. Sarah immediately slid it back over to his side and stood, gathering her and Chuck's empty mugs.

"I'm going to do this my way," she said, "and for a start, I'm going to learn how to make pancakes." Roan opened his mouth to reply, but Sarah beat him to it. "You're welcome to join us for breakfast, and if you're nice to Chuck, I'll consider telling Beckman that you're allergic to wool."

He didn't respond to that, but instead rose to his feet and slipped the thumb drive into her robe pocket. "I may be wrong, and maybe Charles had nothing to do with this, but you should make sure before you get too involved," he told her, and before she could even think to refute his comment, he was gone.

Sarah was undecided for a moment – she couldn't dismiss her uncle's concern out of hand, but if whatever he thought Chuck had done was that serious, surely uncle Roan would've told her himself. She shook her head, making up her mind. She was looking forward to a day of fun, spending time with Chuck and Maggie, and she was determined to do just that. Whatever issues they had to face would still be there tomorrow.

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><p><strong>62. Cooking Lessons <strong>

"Hey," Chuck said when Sarah entered the kitchen, "I was starting to think you stood me up."

"Sorry, I ran into uncle Roan." She crossed to the sink, rinsed the mugs and placed them into the dishwasher before washing her hands under the running tap. "Where's Maggie?" she asked.

"Getting her head measured."

Sarah arched a questioning eyebrow over her shoulder and Chuck laughed.

"I was telling her about the horse riding, and Gertrude overheard and offered to pick up some riding gear when she goes to the mall later."

"Oh," Sarah replied, turning to him as she dried her hands, "that won't be necessary. I need a few things too so I'll take care of it. I'll touch base with Gertrude after breakfast." She gestured towards the table where he'd assembled the utensils and ingredients. "What do you need me to do?"

The question caught him by surprise.

"Have you ever cooked?"

"You wound me, Chuck Bartowski. If you must know, I made a chocolate soufflé once."

"Soufflé? That's impressive."

"Not really," Sarah said as she tossed the towel aside, "it caught fire."

"Okay," Chuck said, laughing again, "I guess I'll be in charge of the stove this morning." Actually he had no idea how to make pancakes in tandem with someone else, but Sarah seemed eager to help, so he came up with a plan. "You can mix the wet ingredients and I'll sift the dry ones."

Sarah nodded, chewing on her bottom lip in contemplation as she scanned the counter tops. Then she opened the cupboard doors closest to her, only to close them again, and turned to face him.

"Will you judge me if I tell you I have no idea where the eggbeater is?" she asked.

"No." Chuck couldn't help but grin. "I couldn't find it either, so we'll have to do it the old fashioned way." He picked up a whisk and a bowl and handed them to her. "Will you judge _me _if I ask you if you can beat eggs?"

"Only if you actually mean 'can' and not 'may'," she teased back, taking the utensils from him.

She set to work, cracking eggs over the bowl while Chuck busied himself with measuring the sugar and baking powder. He watched Sarah from the corner of his eye, amused at the look of concentration on her face, and he had to bite his cheek to refrain from smirking when she mumbled under her breath as she fished out pieces of shell with a teaspoon.

Done with his task, Chuck moved over to the counter to heat up the griddle. Behind him he heard Sarah starting to mix the eggs, but by the sound of it she was merely chasing the yolks around. He turned to find her holding the bowl lightly while maneuvering the whisk in a slow circle. She was clearly new at this. Without thinking, he stepped up behind her.

"Let me show you," he said, his hand over hers gripping the edge of the bowl and tilting it. She let go of the whisk so he could wrap his fingers around it and start beating the eggs with vigor. "When it turns a light yellow, you're done."

"Got it," Sarah replied, nodding. Her hair tickled his chin and the side of his jaw, and Chuck suddenly became very aware of their proximity. With her back pressed against his chest and his arms circling her he'd unintentionally trapped her between him and the table. His hand stilled as his mind started racing. What if she thought he was making a move? He wasn't, was he? He might not have been Mr. Smooth, but even for a nerd, he had better game than that. Sometimes. He was about to take a step back when Sarah craned her neck to look at him.

"I don't think you're done."

It took him a moment to realize she was referring to the eggs. He probably had an appropriate response to that. "God, you smell good," was definitely not it.

Chuck tensed, racking his brain for an explanation or a joke or a nerdy reference, anything really to defuse the situation, but then her gaze dropped to his lips and there was only one thing he could do. He closed the gap, achingly slowly, giving her time to change her mind and pull away, but instead she snaked her free arm around his neck as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Her fingers threaded through his hair, setting his scalp on fire. He could swear he was smelling smoke. Needing to touch her in return he let go of the bowl, vaguely registering that it had landed on its edge, rolling noisily across the table. He made a halfhearted attempt to catch it, only to knock over the flour in the process. It probably made a mess, but he was too captivated by Sarah's lips, parted in anticipation, to care. She wanted him to kiss her. That was the last rational thought he had before his mouth closed over hers.

* * *

><p><strong>63. If You Can't Stand the Heat<strong>

The feeling of her soft lips under his sent Chuck's pulse soaring. It was different than the night before as that time he'd had to get over his shock first. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine Sarah would just grab him like that. Now he was in control, setting the pace, but it didn't stop his heart from racing and ears from ringing. It did prompt him to deepen the kiss, but the angle was a bit awkward, hampering his intention. He took half a step back, his hands on Sarah's waist prodding her to turn. As she did he briefly broke contact for some much needed air. He was about to seek out her mouth again when she pushed against his chest.

Of course it was too good to be true, he thought.

Inhaling deeply he reluctantly opened his eyes, wondering if she expected him to apologize or to pretend it didn't happen, like last night, but the words died on his lips when he saw Sarah taking a shaky breath, trying to blink herself out of her daze.

Maybe he was wrong.

"Fire," she said.

"Yeah," he replied, nodding in agreement as a grin threatened to split his face in two. She might have cut their little make-out session short, but it was definitely _hot. _

"No, Chuck." She pointed over his shoulder. "An actual fire."

"What?" he frowned and turned his head. His eyes widened. He'd seen bigger indoor flames, it came with the territory when working with Jeff and Lester, but there was enough smoke to set off the fire detectors. How had he missed that?

Instinctively he let go of Sarah and leaped forward, trying to pull the burning rag from the griddle with his bare hand. It was a stupid move, he realized, when one of the flames licked his finger, causing him to yank his hand back.

"Mother of – " He cut off his own curse by sticking his finger in his mouth to soothe the burn.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked, suddenly standing next to him. She took his hand to inspect it, seemingly more worried about him than the fact that her kitchen was under threat.

"Fine," he replied, extracting his hand from hers as he looked around for something to put out the fire with. Water and electricity didn't mix and he remembered using the last of the baking soda a few moments ago. If he could just get the rag to the sink…

"What happened?" Beckman asked behind them.

They both swiveled around to face her, standing in the doorway already dressed, looking equally concerned and amused. Chuck nudged Sarah to answer so he could tend to the fire as no one else seemed alarmed about it, but then he froze when he heard his daughter's voice rising above the incessant beeping of the smoke alarm.

"They were kissing!"

He turned to find Maggie sitting at the table with both elbows propped up and her chin resting in her palms, as she watched him and Sarah, who was blushing profusely, with a happy grin. She must've slipped into the kitchen while they were…distracted. Again, Chuck thought, how had he missed _that_?

"Does this happen a lot?" Beckman asked Maggie, but before she could blow their cover, Casey entered the kitchen with measured steps, holding a fire extinguisher at the ready. Gertrude followed on his heels. He took aim and with three short bursts of foam the flames died out. A fourth gust hit Chuck on the shoulder and the side of his face, some of it landing on Sarah.

"Casey!" Sarah glared at him as she wiped her cheek.

"Sorry," he grunted, "I had to make sure I got it all."

"We will take care of the mess," Gertrude said and ushered everyone out of the kitchen with "I will let you know when breakfast is ready."

Sarah followed Beckman into the hall, leaving Chuck to scoop up Maggie and bring up the rear. Behind him he heard Gertrude's stern "Get the mop, John." He couldn't help but smirk. The big guy was so whipped.

* * *

><p><strong>64. Princess Dresses and Fairy Wings<strong>

The house was quiet when Sarah returned from her shopping trip. Uncle Roan had taken Beckman out for breakfast, promising to be back in time for their excursion. Carina wouldn't drop by as her mother had blackmailed her into Sunday lunch with the family. Knowing Gertrude, she'd dragged Casey out to go see a movie and Lou had the day off. Chuck and Maggie had the mansion to themselves, and Sarah was glad that they could spend some alone time together without anyone interrupting.

She had expected some signs of life though.

Stopping at Maggie's door she listened for any sounds from the room, but it appeared to be empty. Concluding that they were probably in the den or out back, Sarah continued to her and Chuck's room to offload her packages. Given the contents of what she'd bought, she figured it was a good thing she'd gone to the mall by herself. Carina would've teased her mercilessly.

She pushed the door handle down with her elbow and backed into the room. Turning, she lifted the bags to deposit them on the bed, but stopped just short of dropping them onto Chuck. He lay flat on his back, his ankles crossed and his hands folded over the open comic book draped across his stomach. His head lolled to the side and the curls that he'd almost tamed earlier were sticking out in all directions again.

Sarah smiled to herself as she tiptoed around the bed and carefully placed the shopping on her side. He might look innocent and nerdy, taking his nap, but after his boldness in the kitchen this morning she had a feeling that he had a few surprises up his sleeve. And she was okay with being surprised.

"Hey," he said groggily, pulling Sarah from her thoughts with a start.

"Hi." It came out a pitch too high and she cleared her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Wasn't you." Chuck yawned and pushed himself up onto his elbows, giving the mountain of packages a once over. "I guess you got everything you needed. And some."

Sarah shrugged. "My credit card needed a workout."

He grinned at that as he rolled over onto his side and propped his head onto his fist. "So what did you buy?" he asked playfully, lifting himself up further to try and peek into the closest parcel.

"Are you always this nosy?" Sarah asked, grabbing it before he could get a proper look. He gave her a mock pout, getting an exaggerated eye roll in return. "Fine," she said.

Chuck pumped his free fist in the air as he settled back into his previous position. "I knew you were just bursting to show me." Shaking her head at his antics, she pulled out a pair of child riding boots. "Don't think less of me," he said, "but those are cute. Maggie's going to love them."

Sarah beamed at the comment. "You really think so?"

"Definitely." He glanced at his watch. "Give her another ten minutes and she'll show you. I put her down for an early nap otherwise she'll be cranky by late afternoon."

"Good thinking, but it looks like she's worn you out too."

"Your backyard is massive and she's a lot fitter than I thought." He placed a hand over his heart, as if wounded. "Sadly it seems that my daughter is going to be an athlete and not a nerd."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't let that happen," Sarah replied lightly as she unpacked the rest of the riding gear. Then she opened the lid of one of the boxes and lifted out a pastel pink dress, holding it by the shoulders to let it fall open. "Now I know this isn't exactly nerdy – " She trailed off when Chuck sat upright, suddenly serious. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." He pursed his lips, seemingly contemplating his next words. He exhaled slowly. "Look, all this…it's really sweet of you to do this for Maggie – "

"But," Sarah prompted, trying to ignore the knot that had settled in her gut.

"But you already got her a closet full of clothes she'll probably grow out of before she has the chance to wear them. Please don't get me wrong, I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's just not practical."

"You think I'm spoiling her."

"Just a scosh." He offered her a comforting smile. "If it makes you feel better, I had the same talk with Ellie."

Sarah couldn't really argue with that. "Okay," she said, "I see your point." She looked down at the garment in her hands and back at him. "But this is a princess dress. It's for a special occasion." She'd negotiated her share of business deals. This might have been new territory but that didn't mean she wasn't up for the challenge. "If I promise to run all future purchases pass you, may she keep it?"

Chuck groaned in defeat. "What's the occasion?"

"There's a children's version of the Nutcracker at the Alex Theater in Glendale. I thought Maggie might enjoy it, seeing as she's into ballet." She cocked her head to the side, raising an expectant eyebrow.

"How am I supposed to say no to that?"

"You could try, but then I'll simply resort to bribery," she told him, reveling in her little triumph.

"Actually, that's tempting," Chuck replied and then schooled his features, trying to look solemn. "No."

"Well, if that's how you want to play it – " She lifted the lid off the biggest box and took out a black Stetson, fixing it firmly on Chuck's head before he could react. "Changed your mind yet?"

His eyes nearly rolled back into his head as he tried to get a look at it. "I thought you said no cowboy hats."

"It's quirky. That's one of the reasons I married you, you know…if Beckman asks," she quickly tacked on. They really should talk about last night and this morning, but one battle at a time, Sarah decided, which meant she'd have to save the 'you're a sexy cowboy' comment for later.

"You shouldn't have, but thank you. I'll wear it proudly." He tipped the brim, grinning widely. "And in return I'll give you the dress and the Nutcracker."

"I knew you'd come around."

Chuck hummed in response and stood. The hug took Sarah by surprise, but she returned it instinctively. "One of these days I am gonna learn to say no to you," he said as he stepped back and readjusted his hat. "But it probably won't be soon."

"I hope not." Realizing her hand was still on his arm, she let it drop to her side. "We should get ready."

"Yeah, I'll go wake Maggie." He shot her one last smile before heading for the door. With his hand on the frame he turned his head. "Just so you know," he said, "princess dresses are for every day wear. Fairy wings are for dressing up."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** I never thought I'd quote a four year old, but there you have it. **Nervert **tweeted that last line a couple of weeks ago and I thought it was the cutest thing ever. Please thank your honorary niece for me, buddy.


	15. Chapter 15

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Good morning, Baltimore!

**A/N: **Egg yolk is vital to a happy life.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>65. In a Tight Spot<strong>

"I wanna go see the horses, Daddy." Maggie was bouncing like the bubbles in the grape soda Morgan was so fond off.

"Then keep still, Boo." Chuck ran his fingers along the shoulder straps, trying to find the buckle that was supposed to release her from the seat, but with no luck. It was a later model than the one he was used to – a purchase Sarah had made and had neglected to tell him about earlier, but instead had Casey install into a Sienna Chuck had never seen parked in the garage before. It wasn't a new car, but well taken care of, and he wouldn't put it past Sarah to have gotten it off a mom at the mall. He had to admit, though, the automatic sliding doors were cool, and a lot easier to operate than the Fort Knox of booster seats. Of course it would've helped if he'd strapped in Maggie himself, but Beckman had offered to do that while he and Sarah were busy loading the food and other gear into the back.

He glanced through the windshield to where Beckman stood, deep in conversation with the ranch owner, Mrs. Winterbottom, about one of the rose bushes. There was no sign of Sarah. He seriously doubted that she would know how to operate the seat anyway and he couldn't exactly ask Beckman without blowing their cover and then having to explain the kiss Maggie had so matter-of-factly pointed out to her. Of course he'd much rather explain it to Beckman than to Maggie, but lucky for him he'd been spared from his daughter's curious 'whys', for the time being at least.

In a desperate attempt to locate the locking mechanism Chuck wedged himself between the front- and backseats to get a better look.

"What are you doing?" Sarah's voice startled him and he jerked, hitting his head on something hard.

"Ow!"

"Careful." She grabbed his bicep and helped him up from the floor. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Chuck rubbed the back of his head. Relieved to find no bump he gestured towards the booster seat. "I think I'm gonna need the manual."

"But you use one of these every day."

"They're not all the same."

"Am I stuck?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide with worry.

"No, sweetie," Sarah replied. She ruffled Maggie's fringe. "We're gonna have you out of there in no time, but first I need to talk to your dad for a second." Sarah grabbed Chuck's arm again and pulled him away from the car. "You fix computers for a living. Surely this can't be that difficult."

"It's not the same thing. But I'm sure I'll figure it out," he added when Sarah started to look a little distressed herself.

"Daddy! Kitty!" Their heads turned to see Maggie holding up the straps in triumph. Then they looked at each other in alarm.

"Oh, that's not safe," Sarah said.

Chuck shook his head and reached the door in two long strides. "Maggie, how did you do that?" he asked.

"I pushed the button. Mr. Oink was sitting on it."

Chuck was sure he'd checked under the stuffed pig, but that was not important. He leaned into the car so he was face to face with his daughter. Her arms dropped, as did her excited expression.

"Maggie," he said in his serious dad voice, "you may never ever let yourself out of this seat, okay? Never. Ever."

She nodded, then furrowed her eyebrows. "What if zombies attack me and I have to get away?"

"Not even then." Chuck lifted her out of the seat. "You do remember that zombies aren't real, right?" They'd had a lengthy discussion on the issue after Maggie had accidently walked in on him and Morgan watching Zombieland.

"I know, Daddy, they're just people playing pretend with raspberry jam." She looked from him to Sarah, and for a second Chuck thought Maggie was going to draw a parallel to their situation, which was definitely not all pretend anymore. "Can we go see the horses now?" she asked instead, reminding Chuck that, thankfully, she was only four.

"Of course," Sarah replied, holding a hand out which Maggie took immediately. "You coming?" she asked Chuck. Maggie offered him her free hand. He caught a glimpse of Beckman giving them an 'oh-that's-adorable' smile before turning her attention back to the roses and somehow he didn't feel quite so guilty anymore about deceiving her.

"Puppies!"

Chuck grimaced. Maggie's shriek rivaled Ellie's, and though he'd learned to tolerate it growing up, he doubted that his ears could take another fourteen years of that particular frequency without suffering permanent damage. Maggie, oblivious to his concern for his hearing, started bouncing again.

"Can I go play with the puppies? Please, Daddy? Please, please, please?"

"I thought you wanted to see the horses?" Sarah asked when Maggie tried to pull her hands from theirs.

Chuck was torn between Sarah's disappointment and Maggie's eagerness. His gaze bounced between the litter of yellow labs and the stables as he tried to make a decision. Then he remembered their last trip to the zoo.

"If Mrs. Winterbottom says it's okay, you can play with the puppies."

Maggie barely thanked him before taking off and Chuck couldn't help but smile when she skidded to a halt in front of the gray haired woman, gesturing wildly. Mrs. Winterbottom seemed quite amused, nodding in agreement as she, Beckman and Maggie made their way over to the side of the house. Beckman glanced at them again, winking, and Chuck used the opportunity to slip his hand around Sarah's. Then he tugged her in the direction of the stable doors.

"Consider yourself lucky," he told Sarah.

"How's being rejected for a bunch of smelly dogs lucky?" she asked.

"Awww, you don't mean that," Chuck said, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "Small furry things are generally cute and what little kid could resist? Besides," he continued, "I've just spared you from a tantrum, and possibly trying to round up bolting horses, which I assume are a lot harder to catch than goats and rabbits. Unless you know that cool rope trick." He stopped and turned to Sarah. "Do you know that cool rope trick?"

She snorted, her sulky mood forgotten. "It's been a while since my last rodeo. Why were you trying to round up goats and rabbits?"

Satisfied that he'd succeeded in cheering up his fake-wife, Chuck bumped her shoulder. "Let me tell you about the Great Bartowski Petting Zoo Disaster of 2009."

* * *

><p><strong>66. Saddle Up, Cowboy<strong>

He respected women, he really did. Chuck repeated the mantra in his head with every brush stroke across the brown mare's back. He kept his movements even, like Sarah had showed him, while checking the animal for dirt and injuries. But every so often his eyes would wander over to where she was almost done saddling her own horse. He couldn't help it, not when she was bending over the way she was right at the moment, reaching under the stallion's belly for the cinch. He respected women, but dammit, he was still a man, and he had no idea jeans could stretch like that. His gaze snapped back to his hands when she straightened.

"Are you checking me out, Chuck?" Sarah asked, shooting him a sly grin over her shoulder before fastening the buckle with deft fingers.

"I…what…no…yeah, no…I mean…I was trying to see what…saddling a horse is more complicated than I thought. Why don't you let the stable hands do it?" He hoped the change in subject would go unnoticed. Judging by Sarah's amused expression it didn't, but she didn't say anything as she slipped her hand between the horse's flank and the leather strap, checking that it wasn't too tight. Satisfied that it was fine, she walked around to the stallion's front.

"Because this is part of the riding experience," she finally replied, crouching down and lifting the horse's left leg. "For one, it's all about trust." She stretched the leg out and bent it at the knee before letting it go. "If you're gentle with your horse, he'll return the same courtesy. Or she, in your case."

"I'm all for that." Chuck ran a hand across the mare's neck. He'd do anything short of giving her a sponge bath if it would guarantee that she wouldn't buck him off. Sarah had assured him that she was tame, but he still had his doubts. "What's the second thing?"

"Personal preference," Sarah told him as she repeated the process with her horse's right leg. "I've always felt that if you let someone else do the work while you just enjoy the ride – "

"What?" he asked when she trailed off, completely spellbound by the way she handled and talked about horses.

Sarah pushed to her feet and made her way over to him. Running her fingers through the mare's mane, she sneaked a glance at him. "Well, it feels a bit like a one-night stand."

Chuck's eyebrows almost collided with the brim of his hat.

"You're not a fan?" he found himself asking. She blushed and he wished he was standing behind the horse. Apparently he could use a good kick in the backside. "I'm more of a steady relationship guy myself," he added to salvage the situation, "though that didn't really work out too well for me."

"Tell that to the woman who had to rent a family," Sarah said. She rounded the horse, gathered the saddle pad and draped it over the mare's withers. Then she slid it backwards until it was centered. Chuck took a step to his right, giving her room to work. Horses needed to be saddled from the left, though he had no idea why. She turned and gestured behind him. "Could you hand me the saddle please?"

"Sure."

The saddle was a lot heavier than it looked and Chuck figured with his height advantage, it would be easier to get it on the horse himself, though Sarah didn't have any trouble before with her own. Plus it was the gentlemanly thing to do. He glanced over at her stallion and mimicked the position, placing it down carefully.

"Thanks," Sarah said.

She let the stirrups down before grabbing the horn to wiggle the saddle into place. Then she lifted the front end to straighten out the pad. Chuck walked around the horse, untied the cinch and when Sarah hunched down to retrieve it, he did the same and passed it to her. Their fingers brushed before he let go, making his whole arm tingle. He wondered if he'd ever get used to the effect she had on him.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?" Again he couldn't believe he'd just asked that. For one, the question was personal and he didn't want to pry, and secondly he wasn't so sure he wanted to hear about her exes. He really, really didn't want to picture Sarah with another guy. "Sorry, you don't have to – "

"You're not gonna make an honest woman out of me, Chuck?"

He couldn't tell if she was being serious or diverting so he tried peering at her from under the horse's belly in an attempt to gauge her expression. His height made that impossible without bending sideways at the waist, which he did, only to lose his balance and land on his butt with an audible 'oomph'. Sarah's head popped up on the other side of the horse and she pushed herself onto her toes to lean over the saddle, balancing herself on her elbows.

"Did I just sweep you off your feet, Cowboy?" she asked with a coy smile.

Chuck opened his mouth to reply only to close it again. His brain-to-mouth filter had seemed to kick in, two questions too late and one banter too early. Go figure.

* * *

><p><strong>67. In Your Dreams<strong>

Sarah let him sweat for another full minute, studying him with her chin on her palm. When it became clear that he didn't have a comeback and she decided to let him off the hook.

"You better go find Maggie before she falls in love with Mrs. Winterbottom's puppies and tries to convince you to adopt one." As much as she enjoyed flirting with him, the ball was in his court. He was the one with the kid and as she had no idea what the rules were for dating a single parent. She'd have to follow his lead.

Chuck nodded slowly and got to his feet. "Labradors are a little big for apartment life," he said.

Sarah caught herself before she could point out that her backyard was more than sufficient to raise a couple of dogs. "Yeah, and if you say no, I'd have to back you up and I don't want to break her heart."

"Well, thanks for that, I think."

He dusted off his backside and then readjusted his hat. Paired with jeans and a flannel shirt he looked like a real cowboy, despite the fact that he was wearing converses instead of boots. Sarah caught her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle a wistful sigh. She didn't really have a type, but she suspected that her future fantasies would probably include a nerdy cowboy. In her kitchen. And there might be sticky pancake batter involved. Or some maple syrup…a little whipped cream perhaps…and chocolate chips…

"Sarah? Where did you go?" Chuck's voice brought her back to the present. Her chin slipped from her hand and she almost did a face plant into the saddle. She jerked back, turning the motion into a half-turn to face Chuck, hoping it came across smoother than it felt.

"Sorry, what?" Or at least smoother than that, she thought as the heat started to rise up her neck.

"I asked if you'd be okay leading the horses outside by yourself, but you sort of zoned out on me there."

"Yeah, I've done it plenty of times. The horses," she said, "not the fantas…zoning out." She pursed her lips to stop herself from talking. She really thought she was over the whole mouth-running-away-with-her thing.

He didn't look convinced. "You sure?"

She hummed a "mmm-hmm" in response and nodded, wondering how the hell she'd gone from flirty to flustered in three minutes flat. Before she had a chance to figure it out Chuck looked like he was about to repeat the question, and she decided that offence was the best defense. Taking a deep breath to try and regain her equilibrium she gathered both reigns in one hand and patted the stallion's neck with the other.

"I'll be fine." She took a few steps and the horses followed. "See? Thor likes Princess."

Chuck groaned. "It's not very manly to go horseback riding on a mare named Princess."

"She's the tamest one I have and I don't want you to break your neck," Sarah replied, grateful for the change in topic.

"I appreciate that, but can't we call her Princess Leia for today? That way I at least keep my nerd cred."

It seemed like a reasonable compromise. The name was close enough as to not confuse the horse, and if it made Chuck happy, then why not?

"Okay," Sarah said, "as long as you promise to stay _on_ the horse."

"I will try my best, believe me." His gaze bounced from hers to the mare and back again. She noticed as he discreetly wiped his palms against his hips and was about to reassure him when he cut in. "You're gonna stay close, right?"

Touched by his faith in her, she smiled. "I have your back, Chuck."

* * *

><p><strong>68. The Love Doctor <strong>

"Chuck, buddy, where have you been? Do you have any idea how many times I tried to call you?"

"Twenty three times, Morgan. I've been busy, sorry." Chuck would've let the twenty fourth go directly to voicemail too, but he was starting to feel a little stiff and it was the perfect excuse for taking a short walk down the beach.

"Busy? Dude, busy means Halo and pizza, and Halo and pizza means Morgan. Of course that was before you became a dad, but still, I get every other weekend at least. What happened to our videogame and pizza?"

"I get it, buddy, we missed Halo and pizza. I'm sorry."

"Are you still mad at me? Because I promise I've seen the error of my ways; I'm a changed man. From now on I'll tell women that I'm Maggie's awesome uncle, just don't tell the Captain – "

"I've forgiven you, Morgan."

"Oh, that's a relief. So where have you been all weekend? I swung by your place, but Ellie locked the Morgan door and there was no answer when I knocked. And you haven't been returning my calls. I was worried."

Chuck had no idea how to answer that. He'd never lied to his best friend before and he knew he could trust Morgan to keep his secrets, but he didn't think Sarah would be too thrilled if he outed them to anyone.

"I met someone." It was close enough to the truth.

"You met someone? Chuck, you meet plenty of people every day and that has never interfered with our – " He could practically hear the wheels turning. "A girl? Did you meet a girl? Why didn't you tell me busy was code for _busy_? And when are you going to introduce us? Does Ellie know? What's she like? I mean your girlfriend, not Ellie. Ellie is amazing."

Chuck made up his mind. Morgan would have way too many questions if he told him what was really going on.

"Slow down, buddy. First of all, you need to stop crushing on my sister. She's engaged now."

"Engaged is not married, my friend. We're simply into overtime. There's still a chance to score."

Chuck slapped a hand over his eyes to rid himself of that mental image. He would've been impressed by the sports metaphor had it not involved his sister. Though Ellie could hold her own against Morgan, and he loved the guy like a brother, there were just certain things he didn't want to discuss. Ever.

"But enough about my love life," Morgan continued, "I want to hear all about yours. Just hold the phone for a second." The line went quiet and then Chuck heard the distinct sound of a clicking pen. He ran his hand down his face, sighing quietly as he turned to head back. "Okay, the doctor is in. So what does she look like? Is she attractive or does she have a great personality?"

"Your mom made you watch When Harry met Sally again, huh?"

"It happens when you're sans best friend for the weekend, but enough stalling."

Chuck rounded a rock and the ladies came into view. They were setting up a dessert of strawberries and cream. As if feeling his eyes on her Sarah looked up. Instinctively he raised his hand, giving her a small wave and getting a megawatt smile in return. For some reason he was suddenly eager to get back to the picnic and decided to cut the call short.

"You know what, Morgan, I need to go. We'll talk tomorrow."

"This goes against the bro-code, Chuck. You're only allowed to breach the code if she looks like Lara Croft. I can't compete with Lara Croft. Or Bo Derek."

"Or Vicky Vale."

For the second time of the afternoon Chuck nearly went deaf. He held the phone at arm's length from his head, positive that everyone within a two-mile radius heard Morgan's whistle. When the decibels dropped, he chanced bringing it back to his ear.

"Okay, listen," Chuck said before Morgan could bombard him with another round of questions, "you need to keep this on the down low. I don't want to jinx it."

"Yeah, yeah, of course, but you will tell me when it's time to whip out the old proposal plan, right? I know a guy who knows a guy, so you can consider the stallions on the beach part arranged."

Chuck shook his head in amusement, wondering what Morgan would say if he told him that they could tick that one off the list.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Oooh, they're about to announce the winner of this year's SA's Got Talent, but sadly the pole dancers didn't make it through to the finale. Shoot.

Okay, back to the author's note. My course is almost over – three weeks to go – and I'm still trying to figure out if I'd learned something. I guess time will tell.

Pick the dog! Pick the dog!

In the mean time I have an awesome team helping me out, so big thank yous to **quistie64 **for the Maggie advice, **shawnny**, my target reader,for her enthusiasm and absolutely lovely emails, and **Nervert** who'd sacrificed some much needed sleep to get the beta done. You guys are awesome. And let's not forget **Aerox **who was kind enough to write the author's note at the beginning of the chapter.

They didn't pick the dog. What's wrong with these people?

I know I always thank the rest of you for reading and reviewing, and I really mean it, but today's thank you is especially for your patience. This story would probably have been abandoned a long time ago if you haven't kept coming back to read it, so thank you.

No, I'm sorry, the arm waving story teller won? Yeah, she's cute, but since when is being cute a talent? Reality shows are stupid.

And in news just in: Happy birthday, **AgentInWaiting!**


	16. Chapter 16

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N 2013: **Last one. Thank you **Nervert **for going over this story again and making sense of some of my odd sentences and weird word usage. And a big thanks to all of you who joined in for the reread. I truly enjoyed your tweets and reviews.

**A/N: **The world didn't end. I suppose if the Mayans really could tell the future, they'd still be around. Anyway, it's Christmas Eve and we're still around, so the longest running Christmas fic of all time is continuing. Thank you so much to Team Maggie for sticking with me – **quistie64 **for the great advice on what a four-year-old does and doesn't do and say, and **Nervert** for correcting my spelling and grammar, and giving me awesome notes that spark creativity when my brain ceases to operate. Due to time constraints he hasn't seen the last draft, so any errors that have slipped through are mine. You two are Chuck awesome. As are all you readers. Thank you for all the reviews, PM's and tweets. It really means a lot and l wish I had the time to respond to you all.

That's it from me for now; you're not here to read the author's note anyway.

I don't own Chuck.

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><p><strong>69. <strong>**Double Infinity and Beyond**

Propped up against the headboard with her legs stretched out, Sarah balanced her laptop on her thighs. She'd booked tickets for The Nutcracker online and was browsing the newspaper without really taking in the headlines. Keeping an eye on the clock, she wondered if Chuck was done giving Maggie her bath yet. He'd promised to call her to say goodnight before he tucked Maggie in, but he'd seemed a bit preoccupied since their return from the ranch and she was worried that he might forget.

She slipped her reading glasses off and was about to shut down the laptop when a head popped around the doorjamb, and then just as quickly disappeared. Amused, Sarah watched the door. She didn't have to wait long. Maggie's face appeared again, inch by inch, and when her eyes came into view, catching Sarah's, she hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room. She was still dressed in her jeans and pink long-sleeved t-shirt, but her feet were bare. Keeping her distance, she looked over her shoulder, then back at Sarah.

"Daddy said I shouldn't bother you when you're working," she said in a stage whisper.

"I'm never too busy for you," Sarah replied, trying to ignore the stab of disappointment that Chuck would tell Maggie that. He probably meant well, but she made a mental note to correct him. She used to hate it when her own dad shooed her out of his study.

Maggie gave her a wide grin, but she didn't move until Sarah patted the spot next to her. Accepting the invitation she raced across the carpet and clambered onto the bed. Mr. Oink dragged along, his left ear crumpled in her tight grip. She crawled across the mattress towards Sarah, not stopping until she was in her lap. Sarah winced slightly every time a sharp body part collided with a soft one, but finally the four-year-old settled in, hugging the stuffed pig to her chest. Sarah wrapped an arm around the two of them and Maggie dropped her head back against her shoulder, her hair tickling the underside of Sarah's jaw.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm reading the Los Angeles Times," Sarah replied.

"Are you reading the time in the newspaper? Why don't you use your watch?"

Sarah chuckled. "Los Angeles Times is the name of the newspaper," she explained.

"Oh," Maggie said. "It's a dumb name."

She'd never thought about it, but Sarah had to agree. "Yeah, it is."

"You should read comic books. They've got cool names and lots and lots of pictures. Daddy likes them. He'll let you borrow one, but don't bend the pages 'cause he doesn't like that."

Sarah had no desire to start reading graphic novels anytime soon, but she didn't shoot down Maggie's suggestion. "I'll remember that," she said instead and decided to change the topic. "Did you have fun today?"

Maggie nodded enthusiastically. Then she craned her neck to look at Sarah. "After you and Daddy get married, can we go there every weekend?"

"Sure," Sarah said, only to realize afterwards what exactly Maggie had asked. "No," she quickly amended, and when the little girl's face fell, she started to flounder. "Of course we can go to the ranch again," she back-tracked, "but your daddy and I are not getting married."

Then she wished she'd stopped halfway through that sentence.

"But you and Daddy kissed in the kitchen. Aunt Ellie and Uncle Devon kiss in the kitchen all the time and they're getting married." Just like her "you're Daddy's girlfriend" conclusion from a few nights ago, Maggie made it sound like the most logical thing in the world.

Sarah's first instinct was to tell her that kissing didn't always lead to marriage, but Maggie's hopeful expression caused the words to die in her throat. She couldn't crush the little girl like that. Sneaking a glance at the door she wished for Chuck to have the most perfect timing in the world, but after a few seconds Sarah had to face the fact that she was in this alone. She busied herself by moving the laptop to the floor to buy some time and organize her thoughts.

Maggie wiggled into a more comfortable position, not taking her eyes off of Sarah, which made her a bit self-conscious. She took a heavy breath, wondering if the word 'complicated' was part of a four-year-old's vocabulary yet. Probably not, she thought.

"Marriage," Sarah said, then hesitated. "Marriage is a really big commitment." Judging by way Maggie's brow furrowed the little girl didn't know that word either, so she tried again. "It's a really big promise." When it seemed that she understood, Sarah continued. "Before two people can promise to stay together forever they have to make sure that they can keep that promise, they have to get to know each other very well to find out if they like each other enough."

"Forever is really, really, really long."

"Yes, it is," Sarah replied, but just when she thought she was off the hook, Maggie's eyebrows pulled together again.

"Do they have to kiss lots and lots?"

Sarah could do nothing but nod, afraid that she'd accidently start a whole different conversation, given what the first innocent question had led to.

Maggie thought for a moment. "How long does it take?"

Sarah bit her bottom lip, not sure what to say. "How long have Aunt Ellie and Uncle Devon been dating?" she finally asked.

"Always," Maggie said. "How long is always, Kitty?"

That was when Sarah ran into math trouble. Forever plus always would equal double infinity, and there was no such thing. She decided to change the subject, something she should've considered five minutes ago.

"Do you always ask this many questions?" And to make sure that Maggie was thoroughly distracted from where the conversation was headed, she wiggled her fingers into Maggie's side like she'd seen Chuck do. The little girl shrieked as she tried to squirm off Sarah's lap. Sarah tickled her some more and then allowed her to roll off her legs and onto the bed.

"Daddy says it's how I learn stuff," she said, a little out of breath.

The mention of Chuck made Sarah frown. "Sweetie, where is your dad?"

Maggie gasped, her eyes wide. "He's in my room. He said to come get you but I forgot."

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><p><strong>70. Walk Like a Cowboy<strong>

Chuck had almost given up hope that help would arrive when he heard the soft click of the door closing. He had no idea how he'd made it through the car ride back and up the stairs without letting on that he was in pain, but once he'd entered Maggie's room he'd collapsed on her bed. He'd thought that lying down for a few minutes would ease the discomfort, but when he couldn't summon the will to get up and help Maggie take her bath, he had to come up with a different plan.

"Chuck?" Sarah shook his shoulder and he just groaned in response. "Chuck, what's wrong?"

"Butt hurts," he mumbled into the Tinkerbell duvet, even though his inner thighs felt worse, like someone had lit a fire between his jeans and skin.

"Daddy, did you break your butt?" Maggie asked.

"No, sweetie," Sarah replied. "It's probably just bruised. I bet his ego is worse."

"Where's his ego?"

"My ego is fine and your concern is touching," Chuck jumped in, feeling left out of the conversation. He turned his head to give Sarah the evil eye for being more amused than concerned and found her crouched down in front of him, fighting to keep a straight face. Then he had the sudden urge to see her smile. He was sure it could cure anything.

"I think Princess Leia's suspension is shot."

It had the desired effect – she flashed him a heart stopping smile, brushing an errant curl from his forehead. He really liked that.

"Do you want me to give Maggie a bath?" she asked before he remembered why she was there in the first place.

"I don't need a bath." Maggie held her hands up for them to see. "I look clean."

Chuck sighed inwardly and pushed up on his elbows as his current position didn't exert much authority, but Sarah preempted him. She squeezed his hand and winked.

"I've got this."

She turned and motioned Maggie closer. The little girl took a tentative step, her arms still stretched out in front of her. Sarah took Maggie's wrists in her hands and took turns lifting the little palms to her nose. "You smell like puppies," she said, switching hands, "and horses. I think you do need a bath."

Chuck was impressed by the way Sarah was handling the situation, but he knew victory wasn't theirs yet when Maggie did the slight shoulder raise, accompanying head tilt and pouting bottom lip that he was barely immune to, even after four years of practice. Sarah didn't stand a chance.

"She's right, Boo," he quickly interjected. "Puppies are cute, but they stink." He wrinkled his nose for added effect.

"But if I've never had a puppy before why did I have to take all those other baths?"

"So puppies won't run away when they smell you coming," Chuck replied. It was a variation of the discussion they had every night, but unlike those times Maggie didn't just take his word for it.

"Is it true, Kitty?" she asked Sarah.

"I'm afraid so." She made a show of looking as dejected by the fact as Maggie was.

Maggie's shoulders slumped as she let out a long sigh. "Then I guess I have to."

The little girl made her way to the closet to fetch her pajamas, dragging her feet. Chuck gave Sarah a thumbs up behind Maggie's back.

"Why doesn't she like baths?" Sarah whispered.

"It's a phase, I'm hoping," he said, dropping his head back onto the pillow. "Thanks for doing this. I know you're probably busy."

"Not at all." She stood and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. "Now, she goes in head first, right? And after I'm done shampooing her hair – "

Chuck's head snapped up and he was about to correct her when Sarah chuckled. She bent over and with a finger under his chin, closed his mouth. "I'm sure I can handle it. Don't worry."

"Oh I'll keep an eye on you nonetheless." He shifted sideways so he'd have a view of the bath from his position on the bed, pulling a stiff muscle in the process. He grimaced.

"How bad is it?" Sarah asked.

"I'll live, as long as I limit my movements to breathing."

"I'm sorry, Chuck, I should've noticed – "

"Sarah," he cut in before she could apologize unnecessarily, "don't be silly. You had your hands full with Maggie. At least I didn't fall and break my neck, or worse. And it's so worth it. I can't recall the last time she had that much fun, which makes me sound like a horrible parent, I know, but I had to work quite a lot lately." He realized he was rambling, but Sarah didn't seem to mind. "I had fun too," he added, "despite the after-effects."

Sarah pushed to her feet. "Well, I'm glad, because I told Maggie we can go riding again."

"Only if you strap a pillow to my saddle. Or a bean bag chair. No wait, I want a bean bag saddle. I'm sure we sell those at the Buy More."

Sarah laughed and sank down next to him on the bed. "Now I know what to get you for Christmas."

"I asked Santa for a Zune actually," he retorted.

"The planet from the Star Warriors movies?"

Chuck gaped at her. There were so many things wrong with that question. "You…you…" He didn't know what to say. He'd never met someone who hadn't seen Star Wars before. Even Ellie had watched the movies at least once. "Movie marathon," he declared. "Once Beckman leaves, Maggie and I are going to educate you on everything Star _Wars_. You should probably set a whole weekend aside."

"Is that your idea of a real date?"

He wasn't expecting the question, but he was about to let the opportunity pass him by twice in one day. He shook his head.

"I love my kid, but you don't bring your daughter on a real date, at least not the first one. Where is Maggie, anyway?" he asked, belatedly realizing that he'd just botched it again. It was okay, though; he was fairly certain Sarah would say yes when he did ask as she'd already made plans for them to see each other once the arrangement was over. That, and the fact that she kept kissing him. A goofy grin spread across his face.

Sarah interrupted the thought. "Chuck, you've got to see this." She was over at the closet, peeking inside.

He had no intention of moving, but he supposed he had to get up at some point. Bracing himself he edged over to the side of the bed and stiffly pushed himself to his feet.

"You know," he said as he made his way across the room, wide-legged to ease some of the discomfort, "I now know why cowboys walk like this."

He reached the door after what felt like an eternity and Sarah stepped aside so he could see. Maggie was sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall, with her head drooping to the side. Chuck's heart swelled at the sight.

"It must've been all the excitement and fresh air," Sarah whispered.

"Yeah. Plus she had her nap early."

"What about her bath?" she asked. "I don't think we should wake her. That'll be cruel."

Chuck couldn't argue with her logic, or the pleading look she was giving him. "Fine," he said, "let's get her to bed."

Sarah didn't have to be told twice. She hunched down in front of Maggie and carefully extracted the pink footie pajamas that were hugged to her chest. Maggie stirred and Sarah froze, her arm half stretched out to hand Chuck the garment, but her eyes were fixed on Maggie's face. He was pretty sure she'd stopped breathing. Pulling the pajamas from her fingers and nudged Sarah's hand to get her attention.

"She's a sound sleeper."

Sarah nodded and he watched as she slid an arm under Maggie's knees and the other around her back. She lifted Maggie from the floor to cradle her against her chest. Chuck leaned forward to place a hand under Sarah's elbow, steadying her as she stood up. She flashed him a grateful smile before turning her gaze back to the bundle in her arms when a tiny fist scrunched instinctively into her shirt.

"Come on," he said when Sarah didn't move, "she's going to get heavy in a minute." He let go of her arm so she wouldn't have to wait for him to catch up. He reached back into the closet for a pair of sweatpants and socks and made the painful trek back to the bed.

Sarah had managed to pull back the covers before lying Maggie down. She gently loosened the girl's grip on her shirt and draped Maggie's arm over her stomach.

"You can leave her shirt on," Chuck said, and once Sarah had freed Maggie from her jeans, he passed her the change of clothes. He was amazed at the ease with which Sarah dressed her. "You're a fast learner."

"It helps when she doesn't squirm," Sarah replied lightly. She bent down to retrieve Mr. Oink from beside the bed, placed him next to Maggie and tucked the duvet tightly around the two of them. "Is this okay?" she asked, brushing a stray hair from Maggie's face.

"Nightlight." Chuck nodded towards the miniature castle on the bedside table. Sarah switched it on and he smiled. "Perfect." He leaned in carefully and pressed his lips to his daughter's forehead. "Goodnight Boo," he whispered.

Sarah was about to do the same when a voice from the door caused them both to freeze.

"Well isn't this sweet?"

* * *

><p><strong>71. Strip Tease<strong>

Sarah practically dragged Carina by the arm to her bedroom, grateful that Beckman wasn't in her usual chair with her nose in a book. She left the door slightly ajar so Beckman wouldn't see them if she returned, and that Chuck wouldn't have to knock.

"Damn," Carina said, rubbing her wrist, "the last time you man-handled me like that was right after we made bail."

"You deserved it for telling the police we were prostitutes." It was an old argument, but Sarah would rather bring it up again than give another awkward explanation. She'd reached her limit for the day.

Carina shrugged. "It was an honest mistake. Two women dressed like playboy bunnies, walking the streets at two in the morning – "

"We weren't _walking _the streets. We were getting into your boyfriend's car."

"Yeah, it was nice of him to come fetch us at the party. He was so photogenic too. I wonder if he still holds a grudge about the solicitation charge. Who knew that cop didn't have a sense of humor?"

"Was she supposed to find you funny before or after you called her butch?" Sarah asked as she walked over to the dresser.

"I meant it as a compliment."

"Of course you did." Sarah removed her earrings and – ignoring the thumb drive at the bottom of the case – dropped them into her jewelry box. Carina had made herself at home on the bed, her legs curled in under her as she leaned back on her arms. "That's Chuck's side," she said absentmindedly, focusing on her watch strap that seemed to be stuck for some reason.

Carina's jaw dropped in slow motion.

"It's not what you think," Chuck said from the doorway.

Sarah's head snapped up. She hadn't notice him come in and she wondered exactly how much he'd heard. Her arrest wasn't something she was proud of, even if her father had managed to get the charges dropped. It wasn't that she'd planned to keep it secret, but it wasn't something to be revealed until at least a double digit date, and Chuck had yet to ask her on a first one, despite the not-too-subtle hints she'd been dropping all day.

"Don't you knock?" Carina asked.

"I thought we've established that this is my room too." He shuffled to the bed and motioned for Carina to scoot over. She didn't move. Instead she gave him a once over, her gaze lingering on the cowboy hat he was holding.

"You're right, Chuck," Carina said with a smirk, "this is so not what I thought." She turned her head to Sarah. "Congratulations, Walker, you've finally rendered a man limp. I would give you bonus points for kinky – " She gestured to the hat. "But Giovanni's racecar bed has you beat." Then she got up and undid the button of her slacks. "I swear I still have a steering wheel imprint on my – "

"Carina!" Chuck covered his face with the Stetson.

"We get the picture," Sarah added as she grabbed Carina's arm to stop her from taking her pants off.

"Pictures." Carina snapped her fingers. "You are a genius." She twisted out of Sarah's hold and straightened her clothes. "I'll send you some."

"I need brain bleach," Chuck said before doing a body plant into the mattress, depositing the hat onto Sarah's side of the bed and covering his ears with his hands. "Let me know when she's gone." The pillow muffled his request, but neither woman missed it.

Carina leaned over and pried one of his hands away. "Seeing as I was willing to show you mine, can I see yours?"

Chuck's ears turned blood red and he groaned in response.

"Okay," Sarah interjected, "you've had your fun." She pulled Carina away from the bed and handed her her purse. "We need to get an early start tomorrow and you need your beauty sleep."

The redhead gaped at her. "You're kicking me out _and_ calling me ugly?"

"No," Sarah said pointedly, "we have a lot to get done tomorrow and I need you alert." She left out the fact that Carina probably hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. Carina might have just taken it as an invitation to forward her pictures for real.

"Why?" Carina asked. "We have four days until Christmas. That's plenty of time to clinch the sale."

"Three. I'm taking Wednesday off and you get to entertain Beckman if uncle Roan's not around. I'll leave it to the two of you to work out the details."

Carina narrowed her eyes.

"I'm the boss and I can take a day off if I want," Sarah said, trying not to sound defensive.

"Not in the middle of this deal, you can't. What's so important anyway that you'd risk – " Carina stopped talking and looked at Chuck, sprawled out on the bed. Then she nearly choked on a big gulp of air. "Oh no," she said, waving a finger between Chuck and Sarah, "anything the two of you have planned – " She trailed off again and smacked Chuck's calf to get his attention.

He turned his head. "What?"

"Anything the two of you have planned," she repeated, "can wait until after Christmas."

"It's kind of pointless to watch The Nutcracker _after_ Christmas," Sarah said.

Carina looked like she'd had an epiphany. "Take Beckman. A family outing is the perfect opportunity to convince her that this little charade is real."

"Done and done," Sarah replied. "We went horseback riding today." She took Carina by the shoulders and turned her in the direction of the door. "She's convinced." She wisely left out the attempt at making pancakes, which probably accounted for most of the convincing, and nudged Carina forward. "Now say 'Goodnight, Chuck'."

"Goodnight, Chuck." He grinned at his own wisecrack and Carina stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned in kind.

Just great, Sarah thought, I have three four-year olds.

* * *

><p><strong>72. Picture Perfect Moments <strong>

Chuck was lying on his stomach, playing Tetris on his phone, when Sarah returned from walking Carina to the door. He watched from the corner of his eye as she rounded the bed, picked up her laptop from the floor and placed it on the foot of the bed before sitting down next to him. He closed the game and slipped the phone under his pillow.

"Is Carina always so interesting?"

"She's worse around you," Sarah replied.

"At least no one's been arrested." He smirked and added "Yet."

"That's not funny." Despite the rebuff, he caught the corner of her mouth lift slightly and nudged her knee with his elbow.

"Do you still have the mug shots?"

She leaned closer, her eyes boring into his and his smile faltered. He could smell her vanilla shampoo and he swallowed. For a second he thought she was going to kiss him to shut him up, but she stayed just out of the reach.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Chuck, but the pictures were of my face."

"I – " He cleared his throat when he realized his voice was a little gruff. "I know that."

Sarah raised an amused eyebrow. Then, pleased that she'd put him in his place, she got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. She re-emerged almost immediately, first aid kit in hand.

"Is your butt still broken?"

"My daughter is a bad influence on you," he shot back.

Sarah laughed at that and placed the bag next to him. She unzipped it and took out a tube of cream before scratching around the contents, clearly not finding what she was looking for.

"I think I'm out of muscle relaxants," she said, abandoning her search. "But at least I have something for the chafing."

"How did you know about that?" He'd specifically omitted that little detail when she'd asked earlier, given where that particular injury was situated.

"The double stitch seams on your jeans," she said. "That's asking for trouble."

"Live, injure and learn, I guess." Now he understood why she'd apologized, but to be fair, who would check if a grown man had dressed himself appropriately?

Sarah twisted the cap off and squeezed the bottom of the tube to get the air out.

"Do you need help with your pants?" she asked.

Chuck blinked twice, not sure if he'd heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

"Do you need help taking off your pants?" She held up the tube. "How else do you expect me to apply this?"

"I can do it."

Sarah shot him a skeptical look. "Were you planning on doing it on your back, or standing up which will most likely lead to falling down and possibly hitting your head?"

She had a point, but that didn't mean he was about to strip for her. His hand reached for his waistband and gripped it tight, like his pants could disappear at any moment.

"You know what," he said, "it's really not that bad. I'm sure I'll be fine by morning."

"Chuck," Sarah said slowly, clearly trying to hold onto her patience, "you live with two doctors. Surely I don't have to explain infections to you."

He couldn't argue with that either, but then what she'd said gave him an idea.

"Okay, you're right, but I'm really not comfortable with this."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Are you open to driving me over to my sister's?"

"Chuck, you're barely in any shape to walk, let alone sit down. And what are we going to do with Maggie? There's no one here to babysit and I'm not waking her up to take her with us. Plus, it's chilly outside, she might catch a cold."

"Will you stop shooting down my ideas?" he asked, even though he knew he was hands down losing this negotiation.

"I'm just being practical," Sarah said. "Would you really feel more comfortable if your sister did this?"

His eyes widened. "What?" Then he realized how she'd jumped to that conclusion. "No, I meant Devon. I mean, he's a guy…and a doctor, which makes it slightly better. No offence," he added. It wasn't an ideal solution, but he could suffer through. Captain Awesome was a professional after all.

Sarah shrugged a shoulder and closed the tube. "Your body, your preference."

"You make it sound like I – " Chuck caught himself in time. "Okay, good," he said instead. "It's not too late, I'm sure Devon and Ellie will make a house call, if that's okay with you. Devon's not the best liar, but they wouldn't blow our cover on purpose."

"Of course," Sarah said. "I think Beckman's gone to bed already in any case." She screwed the cap of the antiseptic cream back on and started to clean up her side of the bed. "I take it you and Ellie's fiancé are close?"

"He's like an older brother, I suppose, and he's made it his mission to help me be awesome. He even taught me to tango. I just wish he'd worn more than a towel at the time." Chuck had no idea why he'd felt the need to disclose that particular piece of information. To his chagrin, the confession cracked Sarah up completely.

"Oh please tell me _you_ have pictures."

Chuck choked on nothing and before he could come up with a response other than 'show me yours and I'll show you mine', Sarah sobered.

"You lied to me. You told me last night that you can't dance."

"In my defense," Chuck said, "he taught me the girl's part."

To her credit Sarah tried not to laugh again, but a little snort escaped anyway. She covered by gathering the first aid kit to return it to the bathroom.

"I'll make you a deal," she said. "I'll watch all your geeky movies if you let me teach you how to dance."

He had every intention to correct her about the geeky part, but an image of Sarah Walker dancing the Tango in nothing but a towel unintentionally sprang to mind and nearly short-circuited his brain.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** Merry Christmas to all who celebrate. Enjoy the day and if you travel, please be safe.


	17. Chapter 17

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **For those who kept count of how many days it's been since the last update, you can officially reset your abaci ;) Thank you to everyone who joined in on the reread, it was fun, despite the time zone challenges. We'll do it again next year with _A Common Spy Problem_ (yes, I'm going to finish that, all 50 chapters).

Thank you **Nervert **for being such a fantastic beta. As always, you've suffered through so the readers won't have to. And I can just imagine you sitting in front of your PC muttering "She forgot everything I taught her". I'll catch up, again. Also thanks to the guys on Twitter who tried their best to correct my French, in particular **Crumby**. My ancestors are probably turning in their graves, but in my defense, it's been a couple of centuries since they've boarded the ship in France and sailed off to Africa, and then mixed with the Dutch and British folk :P.

This chapter is dedicated to two awesome Chucksters who celebrate their birthdays today (in my time zone) – **AdmiralK** and **Frea O'Scanlin**. Have a good one, guys!

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>73. Have You Met the Awesomes?<strong>

The doorbell rang long before Sarah was prepared to answer it. With a hand on the knob she paused and took a deep breath, raking her fingers through her hair. The last time she'd been this nervous about meeting someone was nearly a week ago when she'd stood on the Bartowski's doorstep. That hadn't turned out so bad, she told herself. This would be a piece of cake. Or so she hoped.

Before the bell could ring again Sarah swept open the door.

The couple on the threshold looked exactly like she'd imagined them from Chuck's accounts – Devon was tall and muscular, though not in a bulky way, and seemed rather laid back in his dark jeans and bondi blue sweater. Ellie, looking a bit more formal in her slacks and burgundy turtleneck, was obviously related to Chuck. Sarah recognized the shared facial features at once, but unlike with Chuck, the brunette's face was unreadable. Devon, on the other hand, gave Sarah a toothpaste commercial grin which put her somewhat at ease.

"Ellie, Devon, hi."

She stepped aside to let them in and the couple accepted the silent invitation.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Sarah," Ellie said.

Sarah wanted to return the sentiment, but before she could she found herself enveloped in a bear hug, holding her breath as she waited for the sound of bones snapping.

"We've missed you," Devon said, and when he released her, Sarah took an instinctive step back, resisting the urge to check if she was still in one piece.

"Devon, what are you doing?" Ellie asked.

"We're pretending to be family," he said in a stage whisper as his eyes searched the room for anyone who might have been watching, before meeting his fiancé's. "That's how I greet family."

Though Sarah should've been concerned about his lack of acting ability given that Christmas was approaching fast, she couldn't help but be amused.

"The coast is clear, actually," she replied. "But it's game on if you spot a fifty-year-old redhead who's about this tall."

She indicated the height with a sideways palm at chest level, but quickly dropped her hand when she realized that the gesture had unintentionally drawn Devon's gaze to her breasts. He wasn't leering, but she didn't want Ellie to get the wrong idea.

"We should probably go check on Chuck," Sarah said before the silence became awkward.

Devon, oblivious to what had just happened, motioned in the directions of the stairs. "Lead the way."

* * *

><p><strong>74. <strong>_**Ce Moment-Français Gênant**_

"Hey, sis," Chuck said from his prone position on the bed. "Thanks for making the trip."

"Anything for my little brother," Ellie replied, giving Chuck an awkward hug.

"Actually we're happy you called," Devon said. "We've been curious about what exactly was going on here."

"Oh, it's just your average pretend-to-be-married-in-order-to-sell-off-an-unde r-performing-electronics-store-manouvre," Chuck replied. "We call it The Lichtenstein. Maggie has a little trouble pronouncing it though."

Chuck winked at Sarah and for a second she almost forgot about the other people in the room.

"That's probably because Dora the Explorer is teaching her Spanish instead of German," Ellie said. "And bad Spanish at that."

"How can you tell?" Chuck asked. "You don't speak Spanish."

"I still think her second language should be Japanese," Devon interjected.

Sarah masked her snicker at the Bartowskis' simultaneous eye roll with a cough when she realized Devon was being serious. Having probably had the discussion with his fiancé and her brother before, he turned to her for input.

"What do you think, Sarah?"

"French?" She offered the suggestion reluctantly, not really knowing why her opinion would count.

"French can work," Chuck said. "I've always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower, and even if we never make it to Paris, there's always Canada."

Devon mulled it over. "I don't know – "

"French is awesome," Chuck cut in. "I even know some."

"No, you don't," Ellie said.

"Do to." He looked over at Sarah. "Do you speak French?"

"Fluently," she replied, hoping it didn't come across as bragging. She could've just nodded.

"Okay, then you be the judge," Chuck said. "Here goes." He cleared his throat. "_Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir_?"

"Uh – " Sarah, heat radiating from her face like a bonfire, knew she should follow with something a little more articulate, but "wow," was all she could manage, followed by another "uh".

"Nice." Devon's head bobbed up and down as he sported a proud grin.

Ellie glared first at her fiancé, then her brother.

"What?" Chuck asked. "It's from a song. How bad can it be?"

Sarah's shoulders sagged in relief. Music wasn't really her thing, but now that Chuck had mentioned it, the line seemed vaguely familiar. Realizing that he really didn't speak French made the situation a little less awkward, until Devon weighed in.

"Well, Chuckster," he said when neither woman replied, "you just asked Sarah if she wanted to – "

"Show me where Maggie is so I can check in on her," Ellie cut in.

"No, I didn't," Chuck said. Ellie's eyes widened slightly, sending Chuck a silent message that he should've taken the out. "She's two doors down," he added.

Grateful for the change in topic, however obvious it was, Sarah took a step towards the door to give the guys some privacy and direct Ellie to Maggie's room, but Ellie's next question stopped her in her tracks.

"Do you guys need help getting Chuck to his room?"

Sarah felt heat rise to her cheeks again and a quick glance in Chuck's direction revealed a similar blush.

"This room has an en suite bathroom," she said. "We thought it would be more practical."

The excuse was pretty lame, and whether Ellie bought it or not was anyone's guess. Sarah considered kicking herself for making the same mistake twice in one night. Then it occurred to her that Ellie would probably believe the truth, but for the life of her she couldn't think of a way to take back the lie and not look like an idiot.

"Good thinking," Devon replied. He placed the medical bag he'd been holding on Sarah's side of the bed and undid the clasp. "Now if you ladies will excuse us, we've got some healing to do."

* * *

><p><strong>75. Right as Rein<strong>

Chuck had to remind himself that this was the lesser of three evils as he clutched the basin's edge for balance. He felt exposed in only his boxers and t-shirt, and his stance wasn't exactly comfortable. That Awesome was kneeling behind him, snapping on nitrile gloves, didn't exactly help matters. He reached past Chuck for a tube of cream and some cotton balls, and, hunched down, started to dab the abrasions on his inner thighs. Chuck had to fight the urge to assume "The Morgan".

"The good news is that you'll be right as rain in a few days," Devon spoke as he worked. "The bad news is that you won't be able to get your wang on until then, unless pain-is-pleasure is your type of thing."

Chuck closed his eyes, trying to wipe that comment from his brain. It was definitely not the kind of conversation he wanted to have with his soon-to-be brother in law, given their current situation, or ever really.

"You know," he said, "I never got that expression – right as rain. What does it even mean? Rain is sort of…it's all over the place." Not thinking, he gestured with his hands, and had to grab onto the basin again before he took a header into it.

"Nope," Devon replied. "It's an eighteenth century expression. The coachmen in England used it to denote passengers who were capable of driving a coach and four horses – they were considered to be 'right on the rein' or sitting 'right as the rein', and thus in a position to drive. So it's reign, not rain, but without the g. It became 'right as rain' later on – probably something to do with farms and crops and villagers being struck by famine when there was too little rain."

Chuck raised a surprised eyebrow. "Please tell me that was a pub trivia question."

"Nah, pub trivia is not that challenging."

Chuck promised himself to Google it, not that he didn't believe Awesome, but seeing as he was going to be looking up the Lady Marmalade lyrics anyway… The thought was cut short with a semi-girlish yelp when he felt a sting just above his right butt cheek.

"It hurts less when you don't expect it."

"You know," Chuck said, rubbing the sore spot, "that's not as true as you might think."

Devon shrugged as he placed the used syringe in a small medical waste bag before snapping off his gloves and shoving them inside as well. "It's over, isn't it? And I've spared you the panicked anticipation."

Chuck couldn't argue with that.

"And speaking of the unexpected," Devon said, "what's going on between you and Sarah? Things must be pretty cozy if you're comfortable enough to proposition her in front of me and your sister."

"Proposition her – " Chuck trailed off when he realized what Awesome was getting at. He had no idea what exactly he'd said to Sarah, but given Devon's remark, it wasn't difficult to guess. He groaned inwardly, wondering if it was possible for his ears to spontaneously combust, which in all honesty, would make for a welcome digression. Plus a trip to the ER with his head on fire might make everyone forget his ill attempted stab at the French language.

"Though that wouldn't explain all that sexual tension the two of you have going on," Devon continued, oblivious to what Chuck was thinking.

"There's no tension."

"So just sex then? Awesome." Devon's grin threatened to split his face in two.

"What? No!" Fearing that his current pitch might crack the window panes, Chuck purposely lowered his voice. "We kissed a couple of times, but that's it." The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he was cornered. He quickly changed the subject. "Thanks for taking care of the dinner reservation last night, and I'm sorry I left you in the lurch."

"I should be thanking you, Chuckster." Devon's smiled turned mischievous. "Ellie thought it was romantic and spontaneous, and she rewarded me thoroughly afterwards."

That little tidbit was accompanied by a wink – two things Chuck mentally added to his 'didn't-need-to-know' list.

"As for you," Devon continued, "we'll just come up with a different plan to get you lai – "

"I think lying down seems like a good idea," Chuck cut in as a sudden wave of wooziness hit him. The drugs had kicked in, and his last completely lucid thought was that modern medicine was to blame for his current chain of badly chosen replies.

Devon looked perplexed for a second, and then seemingly remembered where he was. "Oh, yeah, of course."

He quickly packed all his supplies back into his bag before grabbing onto Chuck's bicep with his free hand, guiding him out of the bathroom. When they reached the bed, Chuck mumbled a thank you, but Devon didn't let go of his arm.

"While you're up and moving I'll help you to your room."

"This is my room," Chuck replied, grateful that he wouldn't have to take another step.

"I thought it's Sarah's room."

"It's both our rooms...both's our room – " Chuck smacked his lips together, trying to remember when he'd eaten cotton balls, but his brain felt equally fuzzy. Devon finally let go of him and he carefully lowered himself onto the mattress. "This is our bed," he said, slurring slightly. Then he waved his hand at in the general direction of the walk-in closet. "And that's my cowboy hat."

Devon pulled the covers up over his shoulders and gave him a not too gentle pat on the back. "I sure hope you forgot where you parked your forklift," he said and laughed, but Chuck didn't get the joke. Nor did he know where he was supposed to be off to when Awesome left the room with an "Enjoy your trip, bro."

* * *

><p><strong>76. Tea for Two<strong>

Sarah caught herself fiddling with a spoon and purposely put it down. Then she reached into the cupboard for teabags. She decided on chamomile, given the hour, hoping Ellie wasn't allergic or averse to it. She wanted nothing more than to make a good impression on Chuck's sister, or at least change the one Ellie must already have of her – a con artist using an innocent man and his child to pull off a scam. She had no idea how to go about it though, as this situation wasn't exactly covered during her year at the _Institut Château Beau-Cedre_, but what she did know was that breaking the woman's brother wasn't going to score her any points.

Maybe Maggie could vouch for her, Sarah thought, and cringed. If a four-year-old character witness was the best she could come up with she wouldn't blame Ellie if the woman had doubts. If it had been just about the ruse, Ellie's opinion wouldn't matter, but given the thing she and Chuck had going on under the cover thing…

The water boiled, derailing Sarah's thoughts. She quickly filled the mugs before turning to add them to the tray she'd prepared, and then she nearly dropped them when she saw Ellie had already made herself at home next to the big oak table.

They really needed to get a bell for the kitchen entrance, Sarah thought.

"Sorry," Ellie said with a shrug. "It's a bad habit – observing people without them knowing. It gives you a sense of who they really are. Devon just thinks it's creepy."

Sarah had to agree with Ellie's fiancé on that one, but she didn't say it.

"I can't really get up to much in the kitchen," she replied and her cheeks started to burn at the lie. Between making pancakes with Chuck, and having had her imagination run away with her earlier, she could evidently get up to plenty, hence the need for bells.

Ellie took the mug Sarah offered and added some cream and a spoon of sugar to her tea, stirring it slowly. "It's okay," she said, misinterpreting Sarah's reaction, "plenty of women don't cook. I'm sure you're good at other things."

Sarah nearly choked on a sip of tea. Apparently 'nice' wasn't a Bartowski family trait. "I'm known to have a skill or two," she replied, her tone somewhat terse.

"I'm sure you do."

Sarah put her mug down a little harder than necessary and took a calming breath before meeting the brunette's gaze dead on. "Ellie, look, generally I don't care what people think of me, but you're important to Chuck and Maggie, and they are important to me, so we should probably make some sort of effort to – " She cut herself off when an unexpected smile blossomed on Ellie's face. Then it all made sense. "You're testing me."

"Another bad habit, sorry," Ellie said, though she didn't sound the least bit apologetic. "I'm used to watching out for Chuck. He really likes you, Sarah, and I would never forgive myself if he or my niece got hurt because I talked him into this."

At that Sarah's eyebrows rose. "You talked him into it?"

"It was a means to an end. I just didn't think that things would get so…so out of control."

Sarah barely heard the last part. Her mind was reeling at the fact that, if it were up to Chuck, he would've turned her down. Sure, he did initially, but she wasn't surprised when he'd phoned the next day to tell her he'd had a change of heart. She didn't hold it against him – everyone had a price, or so her dad always made her believe, but Chuck Bartowski was actually not for sale, and that was the best news she'd ever gotten.

* * *

><p><strong>77. Pillow Talk<strong>

That could've gone better, and it could've gone worse, Sarah mused as she ascended the stairs after she'd seen off the Awesome's. She stopped by Maggie's room, poking her head around the door. The little girl was in the same position than when they'd put her to bed and, satisfied that she was still adequately covered, and breathing, Sarah pulled the door close, making sure that it didn't shut completely.

When she reached her room she leaned her head against the doorframe, her arms loosely folded across her chest and watched Chuck with a soft smile. Lying on his stomach with a pillow clutched under his head, he looked so innocent, like he didn't have a care in the world. Of course by now she knew better – being a single parent had to be hard, especially with all the shifts he'd pulled at the store according to his file, but not once had she heard him complain about it.

As if feeling her studying him, he slowly opened his eyes. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards.

"Hey," he said. His eyes were glazed and his smiled lazy, clearly as a result of the muscle relaxer Devon had given him.

"Hey," Sarah said back. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone replaced my muscles with jello. 'Snice." His eyelids started to droop, but he forced them to stay open.

Sarah pushed up from the door and crossed the distance to the bed. "Why don't you get some sleep, hmmm?" she asked, brushing an errant curl back from his forehead.

"'K," he mumbled and obediently closed his eyes.

She stared at him for another moment before making her way to the walk-in closet. Moving around the room and bathroom as quietly as possible, she got ready for bed. When she slipped in next to Chuck she realized that the lamp on his side of the bed was still on and carefully leaned over him to switch it off.

"Sarah?"

Propped up on her elbow she froze, but she couldn't see if he was awake or not as he was facing away from her. Assuming he was talking in his sleep, she lay down on her side and pulled the duvet higher.

Chuck turned his head, his eyes still closed. "I really like kissing you, Sarah," he said. "Kissing you is fantastic. I was gonna say awesome, but that's taken. Does that make me Captain Fantastic?" He snorted. "I'm fantastic."

Despite knowing that he'd probably not remember anything of their conversation in the morning, Sarah reached out, running her fingertips down his cheek. "Yeah," she said, "you are."

Chuck didn't give any indication that he'd heard and she withdrew her hand with a wistful sigh, only to be startled when he did speak again.

"Sarah?" This time he opened his eyes, but he didn't seem any more sober than fifteen minutes ago.

"Yes, Chuck?"

"I think we should just do it."

"Excuse me?"

"You know…it. I've been lying awake nights thinking about it. Haven't you?" For a second she thought Devon had told him what that French phrase meant, but then he asked "Are you one of those anti-cuddle people? That would be a problem. I have needs."

"I cuddle," she said. If she had to be honest it would be a relief, and she might get her first decent night's sleep in what felt like forever.

The corner of his mouth started to curl upwards, but stopped halfway as he fixed her with a serious expression, or at least tried to, given his drug-induced state. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I won't try to cop a feel. That's third date stuff. And after the seventh date, I'll invite you in to see my etchings, but just so you know – I don't etch. Is that how you say it? I don't etch?"

"I'm not sure, but thanks for the warning."

"You're welcome." He shot her a silly grin, while at the same time attempting to frown. "I'm forgetting something."

Shaking her head in amusement Sarah slid over to the middle of the bed and turned onto her back. Then she lifted his arm and draped it across her shoulders. It wasn't exactly traditional cuddling, but Chuck didn't seem to mind.

"Much better." He sighed contently and closed his eyes.

They lay like that for a while until Sarah's curiosity got the better of her.

"Chuck?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why seven dates?"

"It's my lucky number. The one time I dated the same girl seven times in a row, even my roommate got lucky."

"Well that sucks."

"Yeah."

Something about the incoherent statement bothered her – not just the fact that his girlfriend and roommate had betrayed him – and then she recalled an earlier comment from Chuck about his roommate sticking it to him. Maybe it was a different girl, she told herself, or perhaps the timing was wrong, but then Chuck unintentionally confirmed her suspicion.

"Sarah, do you think Maggie looks like me?"

The implication of his question hit her square in the gut. Without thinking she rolled over onto her stomach and, given their current position, she only managed to give him a one-arm hug, but she held him as tight as she could, dropping a kiss on his cotton clad shoulder. She had so many questions of her own, but asking them now would only be taking advantage, and she was sure that was not what he needed.

"Chuck," she said instead, "I think Maggie is as fantastic as you are, but with pigtails."

He pulled her even closer, leaning his forehead against hers as he released a deep breath. "That's good to know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Dun dun dun.

Coming up next:

_His fingers squeezed something soft and warm, and his eyes widened when it elicited an appreciative little moan from Sarah._

I think that's all the motivation you need to come back *wink, wink*. And apparently it's only Chuck and I who didn't know what that lyric from Lady Marmalade meant. If you're part of our club, let me know. I would say 'see you soon', but I don't want to jinx it ;) Stay awesome, Chucksters!


	18. Chapter 18

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **Eh, you're back! Or am _I_ back? Aah, who cares!

It's awesome to see so many of you still around. As always I'm grateful and humbled by all the reviews, thank you for taking the time to let me know that I'm still on the right track. And speaking of keeping on the track, thank you **Nervert **for beta'ing this chapter. The awesome **quistie64 **has also given her input, saving Maggie from years and years of therapy *wink*. You guys rock!

I don't own Chuck or Looney Tunes.

* * *

><p><strong>78. A Glorious Morning<strong>

It took longer than usual for the fog to lift, but Chuck was okay with that – he was not in a hurry to wake up. His limbs still felt heavy with sleep, dragging him deeper into the mattress, and he was quite comfortable, despite the fact that he was laying on his stomach. It was an unusual position for him, but not as unusual as having a body snuggled against his, one smelling like vanilla, mixed with just a hint of grapefruit. He inhaled deeply to fill his nostrils with the sweet scent and only then did he become aware of the warm breath on his cheek.

Chuck cracked his eyelids open to see Sarah's sleeping face, precariously close to his as they were sharing the pillow. His second instinct was to move away, but that would've been impossible without waking her as she had an arm draped across him and a leg casually flung over the back of his. He tried very hard to ignore her breasts that were pressed flush against his torso and instead concentrated on his arm that was trapped between them. Predictably it had gone numb and he flexed his hand to get some sort of feeling back. His fingers squeezed something soft and warm, and his eyes snapped wide when the action elicited an appreciative little moan from Sarah. Before Chuck could stop himself he explored further, tracing a path down her inner thigh. He recalled an episode of an old law series he used to watch with Ellie, and when he reached the crook of Sarah's knee he drew small circles over her skin with the pads of his fingers and…nothing. He tried again, applying more pressure.

Her leg jerked and she kicked him in the shin.

Chuck bit back a groan, but a small sound escaped anyway and suddenly he was staring into Sarah's eyes – as dark as the ocean on a stormy day. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her chest rise and fall against his side, trying to catch up to the rhythm of his pounding heart. His own breath was nothing more than short, sharp bursts of air. He had a fleeting thought of apologizing for feeling her up – or down, as the case was – but then her hand crept inside his t-shirt and she gently raked her nails across the ticklish spot on the side of his stomach. He jolted, instinctively pushing himself up onto his elbow to get out of her reach. The muscles in his lower body protested at the sudden movement, but the discomfort barely registered when Chuck found himself towering over her, unable to tear his gaze away from her parted lips as she inhaled a long, shuddery breath. The voice in the back of his mind warned him to pull away – he wasn't sure if they were "there" yet, or what the state of his morning breath was – but Sarah's fingertips were tracing feather light caresses up and down his chest and stomach, drowning out all rational thought.

He let go of her leg to tangle his fingers in her silky hair, running a thumb down her sleep flushed cheek, still debating with himself whether or not this was a good idea. He tried to slow down his thoughts, his heart rate, but it was impossible, and two seconds later he was claiming Sarah's mouth in an intimate kiss filled with lips and tongue and a passionate desire that both unnerved and overwhelmed him. She brought her hands up to his face, smoothing her palms over the stubble on his jaw and chin, before her fingers traveled into his hair, combing through his curls. His mouth left hers and she arched her neck, allowing him to trail kisses down the sensitive column of her throat, and when he reached her pulse, throbbing under his assault, he heard her breath catch in a sigh that sounded like his name.

Chuck drew his mouth away from her skin slowly, only to have her guide him back to her lips, open to him, as his hand stroked across her shoulder, down her side, ghosting over her butt before settling on the back of her thigh, angling her hips into his. Clawing at his back she pushed a knee between his thighs, igniting a completely different kind of fire.

He bucked backwards, pushing Sarah away in the same motion. Below him he could feel the edge of the mattress giving way and gravity pulling him towards the floor. One hand tried, and failed, to grab onto the sheets while his other arm flailed in an attempt to keep his balance, or miraculously fly, he wasn't sure which, but the next moment he was hauled forward until he was securely back on the bed.

Chuck blinked twice at the hands gripping his wrist and shirt. Sure, he was tall and lean and not all that muscular, but he had to weigh more than her. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but in his mind Ellie gave him a smack upside the head for even thinking it. "Those four a.m. workout sessions are really paying off," he said instead.

Sarah blushed – why, he didn't understand – and untangled her fingers from him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice a little shaky. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm fine. Really, really fine." Sarah didn't seem all that convinced so he gave her the old reliable Bartowski eyebrow dance, but that didn't work either.

The sight of her – now sitting up against the headboard, her hair mussed and her lips red and swollen – made Chuck want to kick himself, injuries notwithstanding. Disappointment trumped the sting of his horseback riding souvenirs, and he fell back onto his pillow with a sigh. In his peripheral he saw her giving him a sympathetic smile.

"Chuck, there's no rush." She raked her hands through her hair, tucking it behind her ears, and then leaned forward to brush her mouth over his in chaste kiss. "And I think living together for five days counts as seven dates," she whispered against his lips and straightened before things could get out of hand again.

Chuck grinned at that, but it faltered when he recalled the rest of their conversation. The shot Devon had given him had really loosened his lips. "Sarah, what I said last night about Maggie, I haven't told anyone, not even Ellie – "

She cut him off. "It's okay, Chuck, you can trust me."

He didn't really have a choice now, but even so, he couldn't bring himself to believe that Sarah would cause his daughter any harm. Nodding slowly, he kept her gaze for a moment as they let the gravity of the situation sink in.

Then Sarah's eyes darted to the alarm clock and she literally leaped out of bed.

"I'm so late."

She disappeared into the bathroom, only to reemerge almost immediately. Rounding the bed, she grabbed her robe from the chair in the corner without slowing down and then headed for the door.

"Casual Monday?" Chuck asked, tossing the covers aside.

"I need to get Maggie bathed and dressed first so Lou can give her breakfast while I get ready," she said, not bothering to stop or look at him.

"Isn't that my job?"

That questioned slowed her and Sarah spun around, one hand on the doorjamb while the other pointed a finger at him. "No, you are staying put. Rest. Read a comic book. I need you to get better and soon." She was gone before he could even blink.

"I thought there was no rush?" he called after her.

Her head popped back into the room and she growled at him – something he found extremely sexy – before he heard her rush down the hall.

* * *

><p><strong>79. Tiffany, the Monster Slayer<strong>

Proud of herself that she'd figured out the buckles on the first try, Sarah tugged the straps to make sure they were secure.

"Now remember what your daddy said yesterday – don't unlock these."

"I won't," Maggie said and cocked her head. "But what if…what if Randall jumps in the car and want to suck out my screams?"

Sarah immediately made the connection to the movie they'd watched the night Maggie had been high on ice cream.

"Randall won't suck your screams, because – " Sarah trailed off. They'd fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and without knowing how it had ended, she had no idea how to reassure the little girl that no monsters would attack her. She stuck her hand in her purse, not really sure what she was searching for. She located a nail file. Too dangerous, she thought, and continued looking. Then she found a stick of gum. She dismissed that idea, not wanting to spend the evening trying to cut chewed gum out of Maggie's hair. Her fingers brushed against the thumb drive she'd tossed in there this morning and she pulled her hand out of her bag as if being burned. Hiding a grimace, she unclasped her bracelet.

"Give me your arm," she told Maggie. The four-year-old obediently stuck out her right limb. The gold chain wrapped around her tiny wrist twice. "There," Sarah said, fastening the clip. "Now Randall won't come anywhere near you."

Maggie stared at it, her jaw slack. "Is it magic?" she asked, her voice nothing more than an awestruck whisper.

"It's Tiffany's," Sarah replied, "so yes, it's magic."

A quick glance down to her watch confirmed that they were getting later by the minute, but thankfully Maggie was too distracted by the shiny object on her arm to ask who Tiffany was. Deciding to use the distraction to her advantage, Sarah pressed a quick kiss to the little girl's temple, simply because she couldn't resist, before jogging over to the driver's side.

She slid in behind the wheel and grabbed her phone to fire off a text to Carina, letting her know she was running behind schedule and to keep Beckman occupied if Roan dropped her off before she arrived. Sarah had no idea when he'd showed up at the mansion, but Casey had passed on the message that her uncle was treating Diane to breakfast at his hotel. She tried not to think about what exactly that had implied.

Her phone chirped almost immediately, relaying the redhead's unhappiness with the situation. Ignoring the reply, Sarah tossed the phone on the passenger seat and stuck the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, though not with the same harmonic purr her Porsche's did. The Sienna was a big downgrade, but at least it was only a rental. She would prefer something more luxurious, but hadn't had the time to swing by a showroom the day before. She made a mental note to call Alexei Volkoff, the manager of the local Porsche dealership, and order a Cayenne as soon as she got to the office.

* * *

><p><strong>80. Not an A-list Parent<strong>

If someone had told Sarah Walker a week ago that she'd be navigating the hospital corridors of West Side Memorial with a pink Barbie backpack slung over one shoulder and a four-year-old pulling her along, she would've paid for them to visit a shrink. To be honest, it did feel surreal, having a tiny hand wrapped securely in hers, and every time the little girl's head spun around to make sure she was still there, and those innocent blue eyes met hers, filled with trust and open adoration, it made Sarah's heart jump. Though she'd spent enough time with Maggie by now to feel more comfortable in the little girl's presence, Sarah couldn't help but be reminded that, unlike all those times, Chuck wasn't a mere few a feet away. She was on her own, solely responsible for keeping his daughter safe and happy.

They turned a corner and a double door came into view, decorated with colorful rainbows, farmyard animals and random letters and numerical digits. Inside she could see kids running around and it was as if the lively scene mocked her. She was being overly dramatic. She was just dropping the girl at daycare, not trekking with her through a minefield. She was practically a chauffeur.

Maggie stopped so abruptly that Sarah nearly tripped over her. The little girl tugged on Sarah's arm, and she stooped down until they were eye-level.

"What's wrong, Boo?"

Maggie chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit Sarah recognized. She didn't recall seeing Maggie do it before, and wondered if she'd maybe picked it up from her.

"Can you stay?" Maggie asked, a hint of hopefulness in her tone. "Just for a little bit. I wanna show you my art and you can meet my friends."

Sarah didn't need to check her watch again to know that she was supposed to be at the office quite some time ago.

"Of course I'll stay," she found herself saying. She'd have some explaining to do, mainly to Carina, but seeing the wide grin spread across the little girl's face made it worth it. So what if she missed the first part of their morning negotiations? Beckman had insisted on doing business with someone with family values, so she shouldn't complain if she put her daughter before her job. Chuck's daughter, she mentally corrected as the little girl in question practically dragged her through the door and into a small side office.

"Mr. Shaw needs to write my name down first before I can go play," Maggie said. "Miss Vivian used to just remember, but Mr. Shaw is new." She stopped short of the desk that nearly took up all the space in the room, with Sarah right behind her, and tilted her head back to look at the man slowly rising from his seat. "Good morning, Mr. Shaw."

"Margaret." He didn't make eye-contact with the girl, and Sarah was surprised he'd acknowledged her at all, given that he was engrossed in the clipboard he was holding. "Who's this?" he asked, gesturing with his pencil to Sarah, again not looking up. She raised an annoyed eyebrow.

"She's my – " Maggie trailed off, her brow furrowed.

"Sarah. Chuck couldn't make it in this morning."

If he'd heard, Mr. Shaw didn't give any indication, adding to Sarah's already simmering frustration. The man had no manners and she wondered if that was grounds to report him. He clearly had no business being around little kids.

"Do you have a supervisor I could speak to?" Her tone was terse, but she tried to rein it in for Maggie's sake.

"I'm the Daycare Director," Shaw informed her. "Directors don't have supervisors."

"I didn't know daycare had directors."

"Well, now you do."

At first Sarah thought it he was returning the sarcasm, but it was hard to tell from his expression. As a matter of fact, she couldn't discern anything from his features. He might as well have been a wooden statue. Shaw studied the clipboard in his hand once again and Sarah wondered if it would go any slower if he actually spelled the names out.

"Margaret Lisa Roberts," he murmured, ticking his pencil against the plastic board. "Ah, here it is." He read the name again, as if to make sure he had the right one, and then finally looked up at Sarah. "You are not on the list."

"You have the wrong name," Maggie said. "I'm Margaret Lisa Bartowski."

"That's not what the list says."

"The list must be wrong then," Sarah said, hoping Shaw would understand the underlying tone in her response. She'd realized immediately that legally Maggie must have carried her mother's surname, but she was probably too young to understand why. This was wrong, Sarah thought. Chuck was the one doing all the heavy lifting, and his daughter didn't even share his name.

"I can assure you – " Shaw started, but was cut short.

"Your list is wrong," Sarah said again. "Now if you could please mark her as present – "

"I can't do that. You – " He pointed at Sarah again. "You are not on the list. Only people who are on the list are allowed to drop children off at daycare. For all I know you could be a kidnapper."

Sarah inhaled a deep calming breath. Every time Mr. Daycare Director opened his mouth, the situation got even more ridiculous.

"What kind of kidnapper would I be if I bring her to her own daycare?"

"Don't ask me, it's your stupid plan."

"It's not my – " Aware that Maggie had been watching the exchange intently, Sarah lowered her voice as she tried her best to hang onto her calm center. "I'm not a kidnapper," she said, managing to keep her voice neutral.

Daycare Director Shaw was relentless though. "I have no way to verify that because you're not on the list."

"Well, if that's the case, I'll just take Maggie with me."

"I can't let you do that," Shaw replied.

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, pinching her nose between her thumb and forefinger to stave off an impending headache. "Don't tell me," she said, "I'm not on the list."

"That would be correct."

Sarah wanted to point out that she understood the merit of verifying who was allowed to fetch children from daycare, but that it didn't matter how they'd gotten there in the first place, but she had a feeling that that would go down like a concrete parachute. Instead, with another deep breath, she met Shaw's gaze dead on.

"If I'm not allowed to leave her here and I'm not allowed to take her with me, then I guess this," she said with a vague hand gesture, "never happened."

With that she lifted Maggie to her hip and was out the door before Shaw could even think to utter the word 'list' again.

* * *

><p><strong>81. Midnight Cowboy<strong>

Chuck leaned against a pillar on the front porch as he waited for his ride. Going into the Buy More didn't exactly constitute rest, but he'd popped a couple of painkillers so he'd be able to suffer through fixing a few of the computers that had been piling up down in the cage. Tempting as it was to play hooky he still needed to resign, and he'd decided that today was the day. Then he'd rush home to make sure got there before Sarah.

A little red and white Matrix, identical to his own, drove past the property, came to a screeching halt and reversed until it could make the turn through the gate. Halfway down the driveway the car stopped and the driver door opened. Morgan put one foot to the ground and hoisted himself up against the doorframe. Leaning over it, as much as his short stature would let him, his eyes bounced comically between Chuck, making his way down the steps with a slightly wide-legged gait, and the mansion behind him.

Pulling Morgan from his stupor, Chuck asked "I thought you were going to borrow your mother's car?"

"It's in the shop, so Jeff let me borrow his."

Chuck's hand, halfway to the passenger door, froze in midair. "Morgan, are you crazy? We'll catch something."

"Not to worry," Morgan said, emerging fully and jogging to the trunk. He retrieved a large sheet of bubble wrap and handed it to Chuck. "I've got us covered."

Peering through the window to the driver's seat, Chuck saw that Morgan wasn't kidding. It was better than nothing, he supposed. He pulled on the handle with two fingers, swung the door open and dressed his seat before getting in, making sure to not accidently touch any exposed surface. He planted his chucks in the corners of the foot well to avoid sliding around on the makeshift protection, which, strangely enough, reminded him to make a stop at the Large Mart at some point during the day – the lone condom he carried in his wallet had probably expired.

Morgan settled in on his side, causing a couple of bubbles to pop, and Chuck couldn't help but snicker at his best friend. There was never a dull moment when his bearded buddy was around. Chuck waited for him to start the car, but Morgan's eyes were fixed on the house again, and Chuck could practically hear the wheels in his head turn.

"I can explain this," he said.

Morgan shook his head. "No need, Chuck. It all makes sense now. I'm just shocked, that's all."

Without elaborating he turned the key, pushing the gas pedal a little too hard, and then made a somewhat tight turn around the fountain, almost scraping against the concrete edge. Chuck held his tongue, even when the car bounced into the street, and Morgan corrected just short of hitting the pavement. He'd forgotten why the streets on L.A. were a safer place when Morgan was pedaling instead of driving.

To distract himself from the fact that Morgan had stopped well over the line at the first red light they'd encountered, and that cars were crossing alarmingly close to the Nerd Herder's nose, Chuck turned his head and studied his lifelong friend's profile. He considered starting a conversation about sandwiches and warm climates, but his curiosity won out.

"Why are you shocked, Morgan?"

"You have to ask?"

Chuck nodded his head slowly. "Uh…yeah. Is it because I'm dating?"

Was he dating, Chuck wondered. It's not like he'd taken Sarah to a fancy dinner, or a movie, or a simple walk on the beach. But what was dating anyway? Wasn't it spending time together to get to know each other better? Though he'd always thought that if he'd met a girl he really liked, they would take things slow. He'd make very sure that the relationship had a reasonable chance of turning into something more long-term before he'd even consider introducing her to his daughter, but with Sarah everything seemed to happen at once, and that scared him. Things that moved too fast had a tendency to burn out just as quickly, though he was enough of a man to admit that he wasn't too keen on the idea of taking a step or three back because the things she made him feel…

A honk pulled him from his thoughts.

"Keep your shirt on," Morgan mumbled as he eased the car through the intersection, slower than a granny on Prozac. "So as I was saying," he continued, "there's no need for you to sell your body."

Chuck did a double take. "What? Why would you think that?" Sarah paying him to pretend to be her husband had nothing to do with them nearly consummating their fake marriage.

"You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?" Morgan shot him an accusatory look.

"Sorry." Chuck shrugged a shoulder. "That guy honking at us distracted me."

"Yeah, some people are so rude. Okay, so let's look at the facts again and please pay attention this time. One – " Morgan took his hands of the steering wheel to count down on fingers. Chuck grabbed it to keep the car on the road. "Thanks," Morgan said with a quick downward glance. "Okay, so you're dating a pretty girl and pretty usually means high maintenance, which is code for expensive, and I know money is tight for you with saving up for your new business and raising a kid, but think about your daughter, Chuck. What will you tell her when she wants to know why you're never home anymore and why you're walking funny and why I had to fetch you at an unholy time in the morning from some rich broad's house – "

Chuck cut in. "Morgan, there's a turn coming up."

"Don't change the subject."

"Morgan!" Thanks to their friendship Chuck had perfected his dad voice long before he became a father.

"Keep _your _shirt on, buddy," Morgan said, taking back control of the wheel. "And I mean that literally too. I would happily give you my Delorean fund if you need it. Just say the word."

"That won't be necessary, but thanks for offering. I'm good." Chuck had hoped that that would've been the end of the discussion, but he should've known better.

"Are you _enjoying _this gigolo gig?"

"Who wouldn't?" It was a little mean, Chuck thought as he watched his friend's jaw drop almost into his lap. Then, taking advantage of Morgan's speechlessness, he half-turned in his seat, ignoring the farting noises caused by his pants rubbing against the plastic, and jerked a pointed thumb in the direction of the rear window. "That is Sarah's house, and as for me walking funny, I had a small incident, not of a sexual nature."

"Sarah is a rich, old broad?" Disappointment flashed across Morgan's face. "When you said Vicky Vale, I was thinking '89 Bassinger, but you meant '09 Bassinger, didn't you? Isn't she like sixty?"

"Fifty-five."

"Because that makes it better."

Chuck sighed, trying to hold onto his patience. "Sarah's our age, Morgan."

"Hold the phone. Are you telling me that she's young, beautiful _and_ rich? Do you know what this means? You've hit the jackpot, my friend."

Chuck didn't like where Morgan was going with that. "She's also kind and generous, and I don't care that she's rich."

"You should. We work our backsides off for a measly couple of dollars – " Chuck cut him off with a snort. "Okay, fine, we basically sacrifice video-gaming time, but not anymore. Picture it, buddy, if you marry this girl you'll be – "

"If I marry Sarah it will be because I love her."

Chuck heard himself and pursed his lips, but it was too late. Morgan's head snapped around, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"You _love_ her?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** Th-th-th-th-That's all, Folks!


	19. Chapter 19

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **One, two, three, four, get the kid back in the door! – Mike Wazowski.

Gosh, you guys are reviewing like you're getting paid to do so. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Now I don't normally update on a Sunday, but **Nervert **has been his awesome self and got this back to me in record time, there aren't enough thank you's on the planet, buddy. You are the Turner to my Hooch.

The second reason I'm updating – our stores officially started playing Christmas carols yesterday! It's time to start catching the spirit. Some of you asked whether this story will be done by Christmas this year. I highly doubt that as there will be another ten plus chapters to follow.

Okay, let's get to the reason you're here – a new chapter. Enjoy.

I don't own Chuck or any of the shows and movies referenced in this story. Same goes for the fantastic _**What Fates Impose**_, writen by the aca-awesome **Frea O'Scanlin**.

* * *

><p><strong>82. It's Complicated<strong>

"You _love _her?"

"I…uh…" Chuck pursed his lips, then puffed his cheeks before releasing the air with a pop. "It's too soon to say." It was, really. It was exactly a week ago that Sarah had literally walked through the Buy More doors and into his life, and then turned it upside down with her proposal.

"How long does it take to fall in love?" Morgan asked.

That was a surprisingly insightful question – one Chuck didn't have an answer to. Yes, he was attracted to Sarah – his whole body was still buzzing from this morning's incident – and it was more than just a physical attraction. He enjoyed spending time with her, it didn't matter that she was paying him for it.

His mind ground to a halt. How did he not see that? She was paying him, essentially to spend time with her. And if during that time they happened to…Oh, God, he _was_ a gigolo. Or on his way to becoming one, should they take things further while he was on the clock, so to speak.

He could of course decline the money, but a hundred thousand dollars was a lot to turn down, and he needed it to put his future on the right path. Not only his future, but Maggie's too. Staying at the Buy More just didn't seem viable anymore. Maggie deserved better than that, and so did Sarah. He needed to be his own man because he meant what he'd told Morgan – Sarah was not a meal ticket. Accepting money from her wasn't an option unless he'd earned it, and earned it respectably.

Or he could wait a week until Beckman went home, effectively ending the arrangement he and Sarah had. Then, though, he'd be moving out and starting his own business while looking for a new place to stay and raising his daughter by himself. And he was sure Sarah too had plans for when it was all over. What if life got in the way and despite their best intentions the thing between them fizzled out because they let this opportunity slip through their fingers?

Chuck groaned out loud.

"Is that a yes?" Morgan asked. "Or do you need to think about it some more?"

"Sarah and I…it's complicated."

"You know what would be complicated? If Sarah was an undercover agent with the C.I.A. sent here to protect you because somehow you'd managed to download all the government's secrets into your brain, and she needed to pretend to be your girlfriend to stay close to you, but you guys fell in love for real, only you couldn't do anything about it because the C.I.A. had some stupid rule about assets and agents fraternizing and if you were caught she'd be shipped off to Jakarta to fight a revolution, armed only with a fork, and you'd be thrown into a bunker in Siberia to decipher YouTube videos of furry kittens for possible terrorist code messages, never to be heard from by your friends or your family ever again."

"Uh…wow, that's quite an imagination you have there, buddy."

"Thank you." Morgan attempted a theatrical bow the best he could in the small space between the headrest and the steering wheel. "It's the beard."

Absurd as Morgan's scenario was, Chuck felt somewhat comforted. He couldn't imagine being stuck in _that_ situation, but his brain did a pretty good job of conjuring up Sarah, dressed in a black leather cat suit, taking down a burly baddy with some very impressive ninja moves. The image was beyond hot, which put him right back in the middle of his dilemma.

He needed a second opinion on their situation.

Watching Morgan from his peripheral Chuck wondered if it would be a good idea to let his best friend in on the truth. Talking to Ellie was out of the question – there was no way on this green earth that he was going to discuss his sex life with his sister, or any other female for that matter. Devon would probably tell him that "it's like riding a bike" and to "lock it out", which wouldn't be helpful at all. It was bad enough that they'd witnessed his _faux pas _the night before. That basically left Casey, and Chuck tended to get a little woozy at the sight of his own blood. Morgan had some surprising insight at times and the guy was loyal to a T, one of the qualities Chuck most admired about him. These did not include his motor vehicle handling skills.

"Hey, buddy," Chuck said when they'd encountered another red light and Morgan's wouldn't have to divide his attention. "How about we have lunch today at S'barro's? My treat."

* * *

><p><strong>83. Crush Boom Bang<strong>

"Do you think we'd get this done sooner if we move the negotiations to the ladies' room?" Carina asked once Beckman had excused herself for the fourth time to go powder her nose. "It's like she has a spastic colon or something."

"You know your medical plan doesn't cover you for Botox, right?" Sarah rubbed a finger up the bridge of her nose, but that just caused the two parallel lines between the redhead's eyebrows to deepen.

"Shouldn't you be checking on the ankle biter?" Carina shot back. "And you still haven't told me why she's your tail today."

Sarah wanted to, but she knew Maggie was perfectly safe, being entertained by her personal assistant under the watchful eye of the head of Walker Enterprises' security.

"Don't call her that, and don't complain – it's good for the cover."

"Cover, my ass."

Sarah ignored the remark. "Actually," she said, "I need to talk to you about her."

"Oh, no, no, no." Carina shook her head, signaling timeout. "Forget it. I don't babysit. I don't do poop and spit. Not even for this deal."

Sarah felt the corner of her mouth tug upwards. "Fun as that would be to watch, it's not what I mean. This is a legal matter."

"Are you suing her? Did she take a permanent marker to the Renoir in the living room?" The thought seemed to perk Carina right up as she rubbed her hands together in glee. "We can get an execution order on her teeth and take her for all future tooth fairy income."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "The Renoir is fine and the last time I checked the tooth fairy didn't make kids millionaires." She placed her pen on the draft contract in front of her and moved the stack of paper to the side. "I want to run something by you, but it has to stay between us."

"Please don't tell me you're gaga for the kid and want to sue Chuck for custody."

"No, this is about Chuck's custody. I think there's a possibility that he may not be Maggie's biological father." Sarah had been awake half the night debating with herself whether or not to just forget what Chuck had told her, but she'd never been the type to sit back and hope for the best.

Carina seemed surprised by the news. "You mean he could get out of the single daddy gig? Lucky bastard."

"Will you be serious for a minute?"

The redhead mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. Sarah took it as an agreement.

"Chuck is Maggie's father in all the ways that count, but if it turns out that there's no biological connection…it could create complications, and I want to make sure that doesn't happen. We need to be prepared, should the frog hit the fan."

"You've got to explain this newly found obsession with frogs to me sometime," Carina said. Then she settled back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest, and slipped into lawyer mode like Sarah had seen her do several times during their years of working together. "Family Law is not my area of expertise, but I can do some research, talk to some people. I'll be discreet," she said when Sarah was about to interrupt. "I'd have to know exactly what the situation is, though. Has Chuck said anything specific or – " She trailed off, giving Sarah an opportunity to fill in the blanks.

"No, he just has a suspicion. I mean, going on resemblance alone, it's hard to tell. I don't even know what Chuck's ex looks like."

"In that case I'll need to establish paternity first and find out what happened to the mother."

Sarah tried not to flinch at the word. Anyone who left a ten day old baby on a doorstep and made a run for it, wasn't worthy of the title in her opinion.

"If you could get me some hair or a toothbrush or something for DNA testing – "

"No," Sarah said firmly. "I can't be involved in this."

Carina squinted at her. "Does Chuck know you're doing this?"

With a quick shake of her head Sarah leaned forward, lowering her voice. "No, and he can't know. Whatever you find out you need to keep to yourself. Just make sure that there's a strategy in place – "

"Should frogs go flying. Got it. And you want deniability."

"It's not that. I don't want to be in the position where I'd have to choose between giving Chuck news that will devastate him, or keeping a secret that could ruin – " Sarah realized what she was saying and stopped herself, but it was too late. She grabbed her purse and started rummaging through it to avoid the look she was getting from her best friend.

"_What_ did I miss?" Carina asked. "When I left you at the club on Saturday you were pretty peeved at him, and now you're not only sharing a bed, but your darkest, deepest secrets too. Just how big of a crush to you have on this guy?"

"It couldn't be bigger if I were Texan." It was pointless to deny the truth as Carina had a tendency to keep digging. Sarah located the thumb drive and dropped her bag back to the ground. Then she slid it across the table to her very stunned best friend. "This might help. Or it might not."

Carina snapped her jaw shut, surprisingly not saying anything about Sarah's confession. She studied the drive for a moment and then Sarah. "What is it?"

"A background check uncle Roan ran on Chuck. I haven't looked at it." Truthfully she'd been fully intent on giving it to Chuck along with an apology for her uncle overstepping, but given what she knew now she couldn't risk it containing the kind of news she was trying to protect him from.

"God, you've got it bad." Carina palmed the thumb drive and slipped it into her clutch. "Are you sure you want to be kept in the dark about what Roan found? If we had done this kind of research on Bryce beforehand – "

"Chuck is not Bryce," Sarah snapped. "Why do you keep bringing him up? I made a mistake. Get over it."

"Fine," Carina said, raising her palms defensively. "You're right. I don't see Chuck sleeping with you, half the finance department and the mailroom guy to gain access to your bank accounts so he can steal money to buy him and his fiancé a penthouse in Manhattan."

Sarah took a calming breath. Trust Carina to keep hammering on the details. "At least he lives on a different coast now."

"Small consolation. For the record, I still don't think we should let him get away with it."

"I can do without the public humiliation." Though only Carina, Casey, and by extent Gertrude, knew what really happened, Sarah felt embarrassed enough. She didn't care what people thought of her, but no one wanted to be perceived as naïve and stupid.

"Fair enough." Carina scribbled something in her notebook. "You're going to owe me for this," she said. "I'll take an IOU on the Botox and I'm definitely going to be your maid of honor."

"Who's getting married?" Beckman asked, causing both women to look up sharply. Neither of them had noticed her making her way across the room.

"Sarah," Carina replied without missing a beat. "She and Chuck are renewing their vows for their fifth anniversary to make up for the fact that their wedding was a quick courthouse affair, seeing as she was already showing."

"Wasn't Maggie your honeymoon baby?" Beckman asked.

Sarah was too busy killing Carina in her head to answer, not that she knew _how_ to answer.

"That's the official story," Carina replied on Sarah's behalf, smiling innocently. "These crazy kids, they couldn't wait to jump into domestic bliss. You will be there, won't you? I'll make sure to send you an invite."

Sarah had to hand it to Carina for keeping her pose after being kicked in the shin.

"I wouldn't want to impose," Beckman said.

"Nonsense." Carina waved the comment off. "You're practically family. We'll save you a front row seat."

* * *

><p><strong>84. The Beard That Holds the Secrets<strong>

"A pizza with only cheese – it's genius. Simple, yet elegant." Morgan twirled the strings of mozzarella hanging over the edges of the crust around his finger before sticking it in his mouth. "But back to your problem," he said with a mouthful of cheese. "You need to make sure she understands what she's paying you for and what she's not paying you for. When you're doing the fake husband stuff, then ka-ching, but if it's real boyfriend stuff, then it's only your pleasure. And hers. It's like this pizza, simple, yet – "

"Elegant," Chuck replied before Morgan could steer the conversation into dangerous territory. He put his half-eaten slice on the lid of the box and wiped his fingers on one of the paper napkins. They'd opted to eat down in the cage where Chuck had been hiding out all day. Though he liked spending time with his buddy, he couldn't stop thinking about the last time he'd had lunch down here. He sure hoped that Sarah's fortune came true, because he was dying to know what had made her look at him the way she had.

"Exactly," Morgan said, pulling Chuck from his thoughts.

"But what happens when the two overlap? Say I kiss her in front of Beckman to sell the cover that I'm her husband, but I enjoy the kiss because I'm her boyfriend – "

"You're overthinking this, Chuck. She's paying you to wear a ring." Morgan's eyes darted to Chuck's finger which was empty as he'd made sure that the ring was safely put away in his locker. "Explain to her beforehand that one thing has got nothing to do with the other."

Chuck thought it over as he took a sip of soda. His buddy had a point, talking was probably a good place to start.

"And by one thing," Morgan continued, "I mean your arrangement, and by the other I'm obviously referring to sex, because buddy, you'd be a fool to share her bed all week and not try to have sex with her."

Chuck coughed in surprise, spraying grape soda all over his workbench. He grabbed a handful of napkins to try and minimize the damage as he didn't want to explain to Mr. Colt why his computer was in worse shape than when it came in. Casey had nothing on that guy in the 'being imposing' department. And he really didn't want to discuss the intimate, _intimate_ details with anyone. Morgan, however, didn't share the same sentiment.

"But that's your plan, isn't it?" Morgan wiped the side of his beard where he'd taken a hit with the back of his hand. "I mean, you wouldn't have gone to Large Mart for two boxes of condoms if you weren't intent on getting biblical with Sarah. And what's wrong with the stuff we sell anyway? Sure, we don't have the fruity flavored ones, but glow-in-the-dark sounds like fun, and it could be helpful too, if she prefers the lights off."

"Thank you Morgan," Chuck said, his eyes pressed closed in an attempt to blot out the last 20 seconds. "You've been very helpful."

"Always a pleasure. So does this mean you'll consider the glow-in-the-dark condoms? I can ring a few boxes up for you. It will really help with my daily target because I haven't sold anything yet today, and you can't have too many con–"

"It's four days before Christmas, buddy, so meeting your quota should be easy, plus it's still early." Normally he wouldn't mind helping his friend, but he'd snuck out through the loading doors for a reason, taking the back way to neighboring store. Then it occurred to him. "Morgan, how did you know I went to Large Mart? And more importantly, what I bought?"

"Jeff and Lester followed you. Lester suspects you're cheating on your bet."

"Wait, you know about that?"

"Everyone does."

Chuck sighed. "Of course they do." He swung his chair to face Morgan head-on. "Okay, buddy, listen. The bet is bogus, has been from the start. Can you make sure everybody knows that? I'm a happily fake-married man, but that should be kept under wraps. And what we'd discussed just now stays in the beard."

"You're not making this easy." Morgan jumped from his perch on a side table and dusted the seat of his pants. "But don't worry Han," he said, "Chewie's got your six."

* * *

><p><strong>85. Tea for Three <strong>

They were in the middle of finalizing the stock values when Sarah's phone screen lit up, displaying a grinning Chuck Bartowski. Beckman noticed it too as she leaned closer and pushed the phone at her.

"We can spare you for a few minutes," Beckman said, winking at Sarah.

"That's her Chuck," Carina said, barely hiding her irritation at the interruption. "Always checking up."

"Like a good husband should," Beckman replied.

"It shouldn't take long," Sarah said, hoping to placate both women.

She grabbed the phone and stepped out of the boardroom for some privacy. She swiped the answer button as she made her way down the short hallway to the reception area.

"Hi, Chuck."

"Hey," he said. "Listen, I just had a call from Superman – "

"Is Metropolis having a computer emergency?"

The line went silent for a moment and she wondered if Chuck would figure out that she'd snuck a peek at his reading material he kept in the nightstand. Or maybe he thought she was trying to be funny, and wasn't, and he didn't know how to tell her.

"Is it wrong to think that's hot?" he asked.

That would beat funny, Sarah decided. She didn't voice it, and Chuck took it upon himself to continue the conversation.

"Anyway," he said, "Superman Shaw called, the Daycare – "

"Please don't say director," Sarah interjected. "That's just ridiculous."

"So you have met. He tells me that a giant blonde she-male attacked him and kidnapped my daughter. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"He called me _what_?" Sarah took a deep breath to calm herself. Who cared what that lump of wood thought of her anyway? "Now I wish I had kicked him. Or at the very least shoved that list of his up his – "

Chuck cleared his throat, cutting her off.

"Nose," Sarah said.

"Very good." Chuck snickered. "Don't worry, I set him straight, and I made sure he added you to the list. I'm sorry, I really didn't think it was going to be a problem dropping her off. He can be a little – " He trailed off, probably looking for the right adjective.

"Nasal?" Sarah supplied.

Chuck laughed again and she felt a pleasant tingle run up her spine. He thought she was funny after all.

"Maggie is with me," she said once Chuck had sobered. "Don't worry, she's in good hands, promise."

"I don't doubt that for a second, but unless Walker Enterprises is a toy factory, she's going to get bored and drive you up the wall."

Sarah didn't tell Chuck that Tyler's office could very well be mistaken for a toy factory, thanks to her capable assistant. She'd had her reservations when the agency had sent over the down-on-his-luck British rock star, but Tyler Martin had proven to be quite the asset and at least his suit covered up most of his tattoos. And watching them through the glass wall, it seemed he was a hit with kids too.

"She's not bored."

Maggie was hosting a tea party for the two men assigned to look after her and Sarah tried hard not to grin at Langston Graham, who had practically folded himself in three to fit on the child-size chair. At least he'd had the foresight to push two chairs together, not that it seemed to be helping any as the legs still buckled under his muscular frame. When he brought the tiny plastic tea cup to his lips and pretended to take a sip, Sarah had to remind herself that taking a picture for the company newsletter would be wrong on so many levels. No one would ever fear the Head of Security again.

The distinct sound of metal hitting the floor with a cling, followed by someone yelling "hot potato", drew Sarah's attention back to the phone call.

"Chuck, where are you?"

"In…uhm…in bed. That was the TV." She quirked an eyebrow at that, though he couldn't see her.

"There's no TV in our bedroom, so unless you're in someone else's bed – " She trailed off, waiting for him to take the bait.

"Buy More," Chuck replied quickly. "I'm at the Buy More. Don't be mad."

She shook her head. Getting the truth out of the man was just too easy sometimes. "You're supposed to be at home recuperating."

"I got bored at home because you weren't there to entertain me…and that came out _so_ wrong because I know we can't…not until I'm…uh…you'll be happy to know though that I'm prepared for when we…oh, man…that's not – "

Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from telling him she understood what he'd meant before he had started rambling on, because frankly, it was way too much fun to hear him dig that hole deeper. She could just imagine how flushed his face must be. And it's not like her mouth hadn't run away with her a time or two.

"Can you take Maggie to her ballet rehearsal?" Chuck asked, catching her completely off guard.

"I…uh…"

"The thing is, I can't drive. Morgan fetched me this morning and I've arranged with Ellie to take her, but that was before I knew Maggie wasn't at Daycare, because if they don't leave from the hospital right after Ellie's shift ends they'll be late, and Awesome is in surgery all day, and I know it's a lot to ask, but the recital is on Thursday and Miss Easton said that whoever misses rehearsals this week won't be able to participate, and personally I think that's wrong, but she's a little scary and I don't want to cross her and risk having Maggie disappointed, so right now you are the only options because Casey drives like a maniac and Morgan's guardian angel has already pulled overtime today and there's no way I'm putting her in Loretta with Jeff and Lester – "

"Chuck," Sarah cut in, "breathe. I'll take her."

"But you don't even know when and where and if you're available."

"I'm available. Just text me the info."

"Carina is not going to like it, if you're supposed to be working, I mean."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Last time I checked I was still her boss. And Beckman won't mind, she keeps telling me that family comes before business."

"So it will be good for cover."

"It's not a cover," Sarah said before she could stop herself. She knew how Chuck would take that and he'd probably apologize, so she tried to come up with something to say before he did, but she didn't get the chance.

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said, to her surprise.

A slow smile spread across her features. "You are?"

"Yeah, and we really need to talk about this…you know…us. Tonight will probably work, seeing as we can't – "

"Sounds like a plan," she said before he could grab that virtual shovel again, and just because she couldn't help herself, she added "See you at home, Chuck."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And see you back here soon-ish!


	20. Chapter 20

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **Oh look, it's Christmas. Again. It's like we have one of these every month now. But on a serious note, you're still here and I'm still here, so Cover Life is still here. It would, however, not be possible without the following people:

**Nervert**, though you couldn't officially beta this chapter, you've been on this journey with me from day 1, and day 1 was over 2 years ago. Your support and advice mean a lot to me and my self-esteem, and I can't thank you enough.

**Lucky47, **who stepped in on very short notice to beta this chapter. She stayed up until nearly 3 a.m. reading this, and if you think that's nice of her, it gets better – she did it on her birthday. Happy birthday, Lucky47! May your year ahead be as awesome as you are.

**Luisa from Fiji, **who celebrated her birthday on the 20th. She's one of the biggest fans of this story and she keeps me on my toes by actually counting the days since the last update. I need the whip cracking sometimes. Unfortunately my plans for giving her a birthday chapter fell through, but she assured me that a shootout would suffice. She blamed autocorrect, but I have my suspicions ;) Happy belated birthday, girl!

And let's not forget my coach in everything 4-year-old - our very own Nutella loving and Double Double fanatic ninja librarian **quistie64. **

I say this every time, and I'll keep saying it because it's true – Chuck has the best fans in the world. Thank you for every review, PM, tweet and blog mention. It's awesome to be a part of this family. Have a merry Christmas Eve everyone!

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, and its name is not Maggie, then it's not mine.

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><p><strong>86. Tutus and Pirates <strong>

Holding onto Sarah's shoulders for balance, Maggie slipped her foot into the tights Sarah had stretched between her thumbs.

"The Beast Master is our best mover," Sarah said, crouched down on her side of the conference table. She pulled up the tights around Maggie's waist, then gently removed the little girl's hands and rose to her feet.

"With the weather in L.A. always being sunny, sales are high year round." She spared the nodding Beckman a glance as she dug through Maggie's backpack for her tutu. "And the markup is sufficient to subsidize the losses we suffer in other departments." Once she'd found the pink frilly garment, she disappeared behind the conference table again, helping Maggie into the one-piece.

"I see DVD sales have fallen consistently every quarter," Beckman remarked.

"Pirates," Carina replied. "The entire supply chain is suffering."

Maggie's eyes grew wide. "You have pirates?" she asked Sarah in an awestruck whisper.

"We do," she replied in the same tone. She didn't elaborate, deciding to leave it up to Chuck to explain the difference between the ones who wore eye patches and knew their way around cannonballs, and those who wore sweatpants and could get around a firewall. She had a feeling both would fall right into his area of expertise. She lifted the little girl under her arms and settled her down on the table, then reached for the ballet slippers lying next to her copy of the draft sales agreement.

"I wanna meet one," Maggie said, sticking out one foot and then the other so Sarah could put on her shoes.

"We'd have to catch one first, and they are very sneaky." Sarah winked at her before turning her attention back to the duo on the other side of the conference table. "We looked into phasing that stock line out." She finished tying the first set of ribbons as she spoke. "There is the odd customer though who still believes that paying for entertainment is the honorable thing to do. We didn't want to discourage that."

"It makes up a small portion of the annual sales anyway, so you'll barely feel the loss," Carina added.

"Electronics is where it gets tricky," Sarah said. She tied the second knot and then nudged Maggie to turn around, moving an empty water glass out of the way with her free hand. "Stock turnover is generally good, but if you're suddenly hit with upgrades and you're sitting on a bunch of old stuff, the whole quarter's profit can go down the drain."

Sticking her hand into a side pocket of Maggie's bag, Sarah found the brush and hair accessories. Carina took it as her cue when Sarah undid the little girl's ponytails and started running the brush through her hair.

"Lucky for us the current Nerd Herd supervisor is doing a fantastic job with keeping his ear on the ground."

Sarah nearly swallowed the bobby pins pinched between her lips. "Tw bd," she said in attempt to cut Carina off, but the redhead steamrolled on.

"He's always the first to know when we should hold on ordering new stock or cut the prices to get rid of what we have on hand before it becomes obsolete."

"He sounds like a real asset," Beckman said. "We should schedule another store visit so you can introduce me to some of the staff. I find that they are often the glue that keeps the ship together. What's this guy's name?"

With the pins now in one hand and Maggie's hair gathered in the other, Sarah beat Carina to the punch.

"Charles. His name is Charles – " She was still floundering for a surname when Maggie chirped in.

"My daddy is – "

"Charles," Sarah said again, before Maggie could finish whatever she was going to say. It was bad enough that Carina had slipped up.

"Charles Charles?" Beckman frowned. "What an unusual name. At least I won't have trouble remembering it."

"Too bad he resigned last week," Sarah replied, avoiding Beckman's gaze by focusing on finishing Maggie's bun. How on earth someone could believe a name like Charles Charles was beyond her.

"That won't do," Beckman said. She turned to Carina. "Get me his contact information. I'm sure I can make him an offer he can't refuse."

"Well," Sarah cut in, "he actually started his own software company and it's doing very well. I don't see him giving that up."

Beckman, however, was relentless on the issue. "Maybe he'll be willing to consult. Any businessman worth his salt won't say no to easy money. Perhaps you could help me to convince him, as you seem to know him well."

Sarah slipped the last two bobby pins into Maggie's hair, buying herself a few seconds. Not that it helped any, as she couldn't come up with a believable excuse.

"Why don't we discuss it tonight after dinner?" she asked. They'd already agreed to put in an hour or two to make up for the fact that Sarah won't be available on the day of The Nutcracker. Beckman had needed some convincing, but at least Carina had seemed pleased at the idea. And seeing as Carina got them into this particular sticky spot, Sarah decided to throw the ball into her court. "Will you get in touch with Charles in the meantime and see what you can do?"

The redhead nodded, seemingly understanding the 'to get us out of this' which was implied.

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><p><strong>87. Serving Papers<strong>

Chuck wiped a sweaty palm against his thigh, switched the envelope he was holding, and dried his other hand. Then he rolled his shoulders and huffed out a nervous breath. He'd always dreamed of the day he'd get to resign from the Buy More, but now that it had finally arrived, he felt like he was about to base jump off a cliff, not sure if his parachute would deploy or not.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered to himself. Though he was alone in the corridor, he couldn't see if someone might be approaching from around the corner. Harry Tang had a habit of doing just that, appearing when least expected, or welcome. That guy should really have the stick up his butt checked out, or taken out. Immediately Chuck felt bad for thinking it. Unpleasant as Harry was, that short, bald guy sure had his share of troubles. Not that Chuck was planning on getting involved. As much as he'd like to fix the world's problems, he was but one man. The least he could do was help out the people in his life he cared most about, which was a good start as far as he was concerned.

With long strides Chuck closed the distance to Big Mike's door. The sooner he got this over with, the better. He paused in the doorway, his fist poised to knock.

And then he hesitated.

Big Mike sat behind his desk, head down, as his fingers flew over the calculator keys. He scribbled on a sales order slip, slammed it onto the growing pile next to him, and then reached for another, repeating the process. Seeing Big Mike actually working, and at a productive rate, was enough to make Chuck uneasy, but when he spotted the pink box of baked goods on the shelf behind his boss, completely untouched, Chuck knew something was very wrong. Against his better judgment he rapped his knuckles on the wood paneling.

"Sir?"

Without looking up Big Mike waved him inside. Chuck made the two step journey, stopping beside the visitor's chair. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, contemplating whether or not to take a seat when Big Mike suddenly stopped writing and leaned back in his chair, his hands now motionless on the desk in front of him.

"Let me ask you a question, Bartowski. What kind of woman delivers divorce papers four days before Christmas?"

Chuck wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question or not, but the envelope he was holding suddenly burned his fingers and he crumpled it before sticking the paper ball in his pocket. Big Mike, eyeing Chuck expectantly, hadn't noticed.

"Your…your wife?"

"The lady Big Mike is no more," he replied, letting out a long, sad sigh.

Chuck figured he probably had it coming, but ending a relationship sucked, no matter the reasons. "I'm so sorry to hear that, sir."

"Damn straight. I had the catch of a lifetime and I let her get away."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" The question came automatically, despite Chuck's resolve to not get involved, but to be fair, just last week he'd sought out advice from Big Mike himself, albeit unintentionally.

"I'll be fine," Big Mike said. "As long as I keep working I won't have the time to realize I'm gonna spend the rest of my life alone and unloved. For as long as I have a job anyway." He stared past Chuck to the storefront visible through the office window. "Who knows what's gonna happen once this sale goes through."

"I don't think things will change that much," Chuck replied. "Diane is a nice lady and it doesn't seem like she has plans to close down the store." Big Mike's eyes traveled back to Chuck's, in what felt like slow motion, as he realized what he'd said. Thinking on the foot that wasn't in his mouth, he rounded the desk and lifted the Large Mart box lid. "These donuts look yummy. Mind if I have one?"

Chuck knew from experience that a scolding would be sure to follow – no one messed with Big Mike's baked goods – but the attempt as misdirection failed miserably when his boss swung around in his office chair.

"You're on a first name basis with this Mrs. Beckman?"

"I…uh…that's how she introduced herself when…when she visited the store the other day with Sar…Miss Walker," Chuck stammered.

Big Mike's eyes narrowed. "You had the day off, Bartowski," he pointed out.

"You remembered that?" Chuck asked.

"Someone messed with the Employee of the Month wall that day. It wouldn't have happened on your watch. Jeff and Lester tried to sell me some cockamamie story about Miss Walker taking down your picture, but I'm not buying it. Those two are as guilty as smug cats sitting next to a dead canary."

Chuck snuck a glimpse out the window, confirming that the wall was indeed empty. It made sense, and he believed that it was probably Sarah's doing. He tried to come up with an explanation to help his fellow Buymorians out of their fix, but Big Mike had him pinned down with a suspicious glare.

"You didn't answer my question, Bartowski. How do you know Mrs. Beckman?"

Chuck stalled, his fingers ghosting over his pocket, but then he decided against giving Big Mike his resignation letter to create a diversion. The man had already received enough bad news for one day, which left him, Chuck, in a bit of a bind. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, sir, you see…the thing is…explaining how…it's rather – "

"Spit it out, Bartowski!"

The outburst caught Chuck off guard. "I met her through my girlfriend. I'm dating the boss. Not you, obviously. The big boss. Your boss. Sarah. I'm dating Sarah Walker. The main… Sarah Walker is my girlfriend. She introduced me to Diane."

Chuck grabbed a donut from the box and stuffed it in his mouth to prevent any further truths from spilling out, but the deed was done. Before long everyone at the Buy More would know that he was dating Sarah, Jeff and Lester would brand him a home wrecker as they were under the impression that she was married, and given that it would probably the biggest scandal to hit the store since Jeff had managed to get seven sexual harassment complaints filed against him in a single day, it would headline the grapevine for months to come and inevitably reach Beckman who would have no trouble figuring out that she'd been lied to. Carina, and maybe Sarah, was going to kill him.

He swallowed the last bit of chewed pastry, and he could almost feel it settle heavily in his gut when Big Mike narrowed one eye, not looking impressed at all.

"The Buy More has strict rules against intercompany dating."

He did not know that, but he jumped at the opening. "Which is why we've been keeping it quiet, and I'd appreciate it if you could do the same."

"I ought to report you, Bartowski." Big Mike held up a palm to stop Chuck from even thinking to defend himself. "Though seeing as I have to report you to your girlfriend that would be pointless, so I'll just have to deal with you myself."

Chuck swallowed hard, shifting again.

"Don't look so worried, Bartowski," Big Mike said. "I'm not going to fire you."

"You're not?" Chuck asked. He couldn't deny that he was somewhat disappointed.

"No, because you are my man on the inside." Big Mike pointed an index finger at him, just in case there was confusion as to whom he was referring. "You are my spy. The store's spy. If you can keep me in the loop on what's happening with the sale so I can be prepared for what's to come, I will forget that we ever had this conversation."

"But I don't know what's being discussed," Chuck replied.

"Then find out. Seduce it out of your girlfriend if that's what it takes. All our futures are at stake here, not just mine."

Chuck thought it over for a moment, then shook his head. He sympathized with Big Mike, but he wasn't going to betray Sarah.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the answer is no." Reaching into his pocket he extracted the crumpled envelope. "Like I said before, I doubt the store will close because Sarah has gone to a lot of trouble for this deal instead of just closing it herself." He straightened the envelope as best he could and handed it over to Big Mike. "Which means," he continued, "that you would have to interview for a new Nerd Herd supervisor. I'm handing in my two weeks' notice."

* * *

><p><strong>88. Sarah vs. the Ballet Moms<strong>

Sarah hustled Maggie through the community center's entrance – they've made it with literally two minutes to spare – and she was about to open the door marked "Ballet rehearsal" when the little girl turned, stopping her with both palms raised.

"You can't come in," she said in a loud whisper. "It's a surprise."

"Okay," Sarah replied. She hunched down to straighten the lapels on the little girl's jacket. "Shouldn't I come in, just real quick, and make sure we're at the right place?" She knew she was being overprotective, reluctant to send the little girl into the room hidden behind closed doors.

"We're at the right place," Maggie insisted. She pointed down a short hallway. "You can wait with the other moms. I'll come find you when we're done."

The word choice threw Sarah for a moment. A flash of realization crossed Maggie's face and Sarah held her breath when the little girl tilted her head, fixing her with a questioning look.

"Are you gonna come to my recital, Kitty?"

Sarah, who prided herself on her ability to read people and anticipate their reactions, wondered if she'd ever get used to the Bartowskis' ability to keep her on her toes, especially the smallest one.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said. She was rewarded with a broad grin.

The door behind Maggie opened and a woman's head popped around it. Her hair was dyed a shocking array of silver and black, streaked with purple, but the deep seated wrinkles around her mouth and eyes revealed the woman had long since passed the age of pulling off the look. Like a couple of decades passed.

"Maggie," she said with Southern drawl, "we're waiting for you."

Remembering Chuck's warning Sarah rose to her feet. "We were on time," she said.

"Barely." Slipping Maggie's jacket off her shoulders, Miss Easton shoved it at Sarah, and with a dismissive wave she directed Maggie into the room, closing the door behind them.

Sarah stared at the door for a moment. What an odd woman, she thought. Then she turned and made her way down the corridor. Reaching what must have been the waiting area, given that there were folding chairs lined up against two of the walls, she noticed a group of ballet moms huddled together in the corner, their chairs arranged in a closed circle – a clear message that outsiders, like the lone woman sitting a few feet away, weren't welcome. Sarah figured that the polite thing to do would be to join the loner, but the scowl on redhead's face gave her pause and she sank down on the closest chair, placing Maggie's gear on the seat next to hers. She didn't mind really, as she preferred her own company to those of strangers. Ignoring the heads that had turned her way she pulled her phone from her purse and started to scroll through her emails, glancing up occasionally when someone walked by the glass double doors opposite her.

The curiosity of the herd to her left had waned and they went back to whatever they were discussing before she'd arrived. It wasn't until she could make out a familiar name amidst the murmuring that her ears perked up.

"One of these days Chuck is going to realize that his daughter needs a mother and I'm going to be right there, waiting in the wings," a petite brunette said.

"You and Sasha Banicheck both," a bottle blonde in her mid-forties added. Her short bob bounced as she jerked her head in the direction of the grumpy outcast's now empty seat.

"Please," the first woman replied, "little miss KGB with the fake Russian accent? She's got a snowball's hope in hell. I have it on good authority that he prefers brunettes."

"I may just cure him of that," the blonde said.

"You're married," a third woman pointed out, "and your husband is built like a lumberjack. There's no way Chuck would take that chance."

Seemingly unfazed the blonde took a sip from the straw sticking out of her takeout coffee cup. "The ball-and-chain is hardly ever home," she said once she'd swallowed, "and I'm yet to meet the man who turns down no-strings-attached sex. With handcuffs."

Sarah, who'd been gritting her teeth to avoid interrupting the group with a few choice words, watched them from the corner of her eye.

The brunette lifted her chin in a silent challenge. "Then you're about to. Chuck is a decent guy."

The other women in the group snickered. "He's a geek," one of them said.

"Nothing a haircut, a decent outfit and some proper shoes can't fix," the brunette said. "Once I get my hands on him – "

"Not if I get my hands on him first," the blonde cut in, sipping on the straw again. "I don't care what he wears, as long as he's _not_ wearing it."

That clearly got the brunette's back up, and for a second Sarah thought she was going to lean forward and grab the blonde around her throat.

"Unclench Hannah," the blonde said. "You can have him once I'm done, but I can't guarantee what shape he'll be in. On the upside, he might learn something."

Now Sarah felt like throttling the blonde cougar, and Hannah, while she was at it, but instead of getting violent she decided on another course of action to put the women in their place. Chuck was not some toy for them to quibble over, and he was definitely not available for whatever either of them had in mind. Not paying attention to the rest of the terse conversation taking place in the corner, Sarah thumbed through the menus on her phone, pulled up the contacts list and hit the dial button.

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><p><strong>89. Staking Claim<strong>

Chuck stood on the sidewalk, his messenger bag slung over one shoulder, as he watched the Nerd Herder disappear from sight. He loved his buddy, but if Morgan didn't give him another lift in at least the next twelve months, that would be too soon. His thoughts were interrupted when the phone in his hand started to ring and he glanced down at it, smiling when he saw the picture of Sarah he'd taken on the beach. He swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed the phone to his ear while making a slow trek across the grass to the grey building hidden behind a row of palm trees.

"Hi Sarah," he said.

"Hi, baby."

Chuck lowered the phone and studied the screen, completely perplexed. Then realized he was still on the call and fumbled the phone before managing to press it back to his ear.

"Uh, hi," he said again, his voice a pitch higher than what was considered manly. "Whazzup?" The heel of his palm connected with his forehead.

"I just wanted to let you know that rehearsals are going to be longer than usual."

He momentarily forgot about his failed attempt at being smooth and frowned. "I know," he said, "I sent you the schedule, remember?"

"How do you feel about Chinese for dinner? Maggie and I can stop at the Bamboo Dragon on the way home."

"Isn't Lou cooking tonight?"

He pulled up short of the double glass doors. His eyes found her immediately – poised on a chair, one leg elegantly crossed over a bent knee. Her foot bobbed up and down. What kept his attention though was the lock of hair she was twisting around her finger as she spoke.

"Of course we'll pick up extra sizzling shrimp, Chuck. It's my favorite too."

This was getting weird, he thought.

"Okay," he said, drawing out the syllables, "either you are super stoned, or you've been kidnapped and you're trying to get a message to me, but as I can see you, I'm gonna guess it's not the second one."

"You can?" Sarah asked, sounding surprised. Her head spun in his direction and he gave her small wave from his side of the glass. With a smile that could easily light up the whole of downtown L.A. she got to her feet and crossed the room. Chuck swung the door open and only when she met him in the doorway did they both lower their phones.

Sarah sent a quick glance to her left before meeting his gaze dead on. She closed the gap between them, laying her free hand on his waist. Her heels made up for their height difference and they were almost nose to nose.

"Kiss me," she whispered under her breath.

Chuck would be lying if he said he wasn't thinking along the same lines, but being aware of where they were he settled for giving Sarah a quick peck on the cheek before taking half a step back.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "That's it?"

"You know I'm not comfortable with PDA."

Sarah closed the distance between them again, pressing her cheek against his, and Chuck could feel her breath on his ear when she whispered, "I also know a bartender who would call you a liar."

Lucky for Chuck he was saved from responding when he found himself being led by the hand to where Sarah had been waiting for Maggie's rehearsal to finish. Noticing for the first time the regular crowd in the corner he smiled at them.

"Ladies," he said with a polite nod.

They merely stared back, jaws slack, and he turned his head to see if something behind him was the reason for their shocked expressions, but the hallway was empty. Confused he sat down next to Sarah who had turned sideways in her chair to block his view from the group, or him from them, he wasn't quite sure.

"Stop encouraging them," she said, her voice low.

"I…what?" He craned his neck to look past her and quickly duck back when he saw Hannah, Sylvia and Lizzie staring daggers at him. "What is happening?"

"You mean your little fan club back there? They're all crushing on you."

Chuck's eyes went wide. "They are?" He tried to sneak another peek over Sarah's shoulder, only to be rewarded with a pinch on his forearm. "Ow." He rubbed the spot to ease the burn. "I doubt it."

"You wouldn't if you heard the things they have planned for you."

"What things?" He knew immediately that it was the wrong question to ask. And then everything clicked. "Sarah, are you jealous?" It was flattering, and life threatening, if her facial expression was anything to go by. He couldn't believe that she of all people would feel insecure.

Chuck had never been in this situation before and he wasn't sure how to handle it, but Sarah's request of a minute ago gave him an idea. He swallowed down his nerves as he scooted forward in his seat. Keeping his focus on her he raised his hand and brushed her hair back behind her ear. Her features softened. Then his gaze dropped to her lips as he leaned in slowly. Her eyes fell close and she released a small sigh right before their mouths met.

His intention was to keep it chaste – it would've sufficed to reassure her that she had nothing to worry about, and send the message to the other women in the room that he was taken, should what Sarah had said be true, but then her fingers tugged on his curls, and he really liked that, enough to forget that they had an audience as he inched closer to deepen the kiss, despite the armrest digging into his ribs.

Sarah pulled away abruptly and for a second Chuck thought he had done something wrong, until he became aware of the woman towering over them.

"This is a family place," she said with a heavy Russian accent. "If you want to make mad, passionate sex to each other, there's a supply closet down the hall."

Chuck felt his ears go red at her blunt suggestion. "I…we don't...we weren't – "

Sarah cut off his stammering, smiling sweetly at Sasha. "Thanks for the tip."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light, do some stuff in between and sing tra la la la la, then hang a shining star upon the highest bough, and have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

**On a technical note: **In chapter 15 I mentioned The Walking Dead. Then for some reason I looked it up the other day – The Walking Dead premiered at the end of October 2010, while this story takes place in December 2009 (you can check the calendar, the days of the week and dates match up). This bugged me, so I've changed it to Zombieland. If it bugged you too (I can't be the only crazy person around) you can now heave a sigh of relief.


	21. Chapter 21

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **Are your eyes deceiving you? Quite possibly. Welcome to the first update for 2014. This is the part where I usually thank everyone for their reviews, but today I'd like to thank you for your patience. I'm grateful for those of you still around. I wasn't planning on updating today, or any time in the next two months, as this story has reached a critical point and any plotholes will make it fall flat, but today is a special occasion. You know him as **AdmiralK **on here and **MKudron **on Twitter and today is this awesome guy's birthday. Someone else who's celebrating today, on a plane I believe, is **Frea O'Scanlin **– may your choices be beef, chicken or cake. Happy birthday to both of you! Have a fabulous one.

I've accomplished many things on my to-do list in the past ten months, but acquiring the rights to Chuck is still unchecked.

As always, a big thank you to the delightful duo **Nervert **and **Quistie64 **for the advise, beta and sorting out the commas.

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><p><strong>90. Pie Charts and Cannibals<strong>

Chuck, it seemed, was a leg jiggler whenever he sat still for too long. Sarah tolerated it for as long as she could before placing a hand on his knee to stop the limb from bouncing.

"Sorry," he mumbled without taking his eyes of the graphic novel he was reading. They hadn't spoken much since Sasha had reprimanded them for their inappropriate behavior.

Honestly, Sarah was surprised that they'd gotten carried away in public without the excuse of Tequila, but that was quickly forgotten thanks to the commotion that had happened in the corner. She hadn't seen what exactly had transpired, but it had been fairly obvious when Hannah had jumped up, a brownish stain blossoming on her skirt. Sylvia hadn't looked the least bit apologetic, but rather miffed that her iced latte – which smelled suspiciously like it was laced with bourbon – had spilled. When Hannah had returned from the bathroom, giving them the evil eye, Chuck had decided that it would be safer for him to hide behind Sarah with his nose in a comic book because, as he'd put it, 'if looks could kill he'd be nothing more than a blood stain on the wall'.

Sarah sent a glance in the direction of the group. When her eyes inadvertently caught Hannah's, she held the brunette's stare in a silent challenge. It was beneath her to gloat, but she thought Little Miss He-prefers-brunets got the message that she didn't stand a chance. Chuck had made that perfectly clear with his lips. Just the memory of it made her heart beat faster and fingertips tingle and, turning her attention to him, she couldn't help but wonder how he would react if she dragged him to that storage closet right now.

Chuck cleared his throat, pulling her from that fantasy, and only then did Sarah realize her hand was still on his leg, squeezing it a little harder than before.

"Sorry," she said this time and let go of his knee.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, finally risking drawing his attention from his book.

Sarah shrugged a shoulder. "No reason."

"Uh-ho, I think there's a reason."

Chewing her bottom lip she tilted her head, contemplating asking him how fast he healed, but he'd been embarrassed enough for one day, so she decided to show some mercy.

"I'm bored."

"Oh," Chuck said, "that's your bored face? Honestly, I was going to guess hungry, but that would only make sense if you're a cannibal, and though I've never met one before and would like to at some point, I don't think I'm mentally prepared for that quite yet."

Sarah blinked, wondering if that was the nerd version of a double entendre, and more disturbingly, if Chuck could read minds. Then she shook herself out of it, putting it down to how they'd almost started the day. That was bound to cloud her perception. She cleared her throat before she spoke.

"I'm not a cannibal, Chuck, I'm just bored."

His eyes darted to the magazine in her lap. "I'd be bored too if I was reading The Economist." He held up his comic book, offering her half. "We can share."

"No thanks," Sarah replied, and just as quickly changed her mind. She took the book from his hands and swapped him for hers.

"That's not how sharing works."

"I'm doing you a favor," she said, ignoring his fake pout. "You'll be starting your own business soon, so you should read more Economists and Forbes, and less Robin Hood."

"Superman."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at the correction. "Green tights, blue tights, what's the difference?"

The question horrified Chuck, judging by his expression and the short gasp that escaped his lips. He opened and closed his mouth twice before any actual words came out.

"Robin Hood does not wear tights. Tights were only invented three hundred years after the story took place. Of course there's no actual standard when it comes to the character's costumes, but if the movie makers put a little more effort into doing actual research instead of calling their mistakes "interpretations", they would not get it so wrong."

At first Sarah was taken aback by the passionate response, and impressed that Chuck could make double air quotes without dropping the magazine. Then a slow smile spread across her face. "You are such a nerd," she said, and couldn't help but add, "Who knows _a lot _about tights."

"It was a pub trivia question." He answered far too quickly for her to believe him. Before she could call him on it though, he tapped a finger to his temple. "I have an entire database of useless facts in here which turn out to be very helpful in the strangest situations. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have some data to add while you give Superman a shot."

He motioned to the graphic novel she'd liberated him of, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable, and started to leaf through The Economist. The magazine didn't hold his attention for long.

"Do you have Cliff's Notes on this thing?" Chuck asked. "It's a little wordy. And all the pictures are of people in suits. No, wait," he said, opening up the magazine and turning it sideways like it was a Playboy centerfold, "here's a pie chart. Pretty colors."

"You're hopeless." Sarah dropped the comic book back in his lap.

Chuck grinned at her, but his retort died on his lips as they both turned their heads in the direction of the sound of little feet stampeding down the hallway.

* * *

><p><strong>91. Cold Feet and Fist Fights <strong>

Chuck shut off the tap and swirled his hand through the water to check the temperature before rocking back on his haunches, mindful to not aggravate his abrasions for the umpteenth time that day. It didn't sting as bad as the night before, provided his thighs didn't touch. Once he'd found his balance, he inched one of the Water Wobblers on the tub's edge forward with his finger.

"I'm gonna jump!" Grabbing its duck friend, he waggled it over to the penguin. "No, don't do it!" He watched Maggie in his peripheral vision, playing with her dollhouse, not in the least distracted by his animal impressions. "But look at all those bubbles, they're calling to me." He tipped the penguin over the edge, followed by the duck. "Yes, I hear it. I think I'm going to jump in too." Still being ignored, Chuck let go of the toys, letting them fall into the bath with a plop and dumped a couple of building blocks and sponge letters in for good measure before he stood, drying his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. He leaned through the doorway, bracing himself against the doorjamb with one hand. "Your bath's ready, Mags."

She glanced up at him with disinterest before turning her attention back to her attempt at fitting Barbie on one of the tiny kitchen chairs.

"Kitty gave me a bath this morning," she said without looking at him again. "If I take too many I'll melt."

"You're not an ice cube, Boo."

"But my feet are really, really cold."

"A bath will warm them right up."

Maggie finally looked up with an I-don't-believe-you expression and he decided that perhaps it was time to start using his trump card. It was the season after all and he might as well take advantage.

"You know Santa's coming soon, right?" Maggie nodded her head so vigorously Chuck worried that her chin was going to leave a permanent dent in her sternum. "Do you know how long till Santa comes?"

Her head stopped bobbing and she frowned. "No."

"Four more baths." He held up the appropriate amount of fingers.

Maggie's face brightened and she jumped to her feet, leaving poor Barbie with her neck stuck between two chair legs. "Can I take them all now? Can I, Daddy, can I?"

That wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. "Aren't you scared you'll melt?"

She shook her head as she pushed past him. "Nope."

How convenient, Chuck thought with a wry smile. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Boo. You get one bath every night for four nights. That's the rule."

Maggie looked up at him, her head tilted. "Why?"

"Because it is." It wasn't a real answer, but effective to avoid getting stuck in a seemingly endless loop of whys. Not taking the chance of that happening anyway, he cut in before she could ask another question. "Now," he said, his arms stretched out to the sides as he simultaneously pointed to the basket in one corner and the bath in the other, "clothes in the tub, kid in the hamper."

Maggie giggled. "It's the other way 'round, Daddy," she said, grabbing the bottom of her sweater and pulling it up together with her undershirt.

"One at a time, Boo," Chuck said, but it was already too late. The clothes had tangled and got stuck around her head. "Let me help."

"I can do it." Her voice was muffled by the layers of cotton and wool. She tried to wriggle herself free.

"I know you can, but you may strangle yourself." He freed the t-shirt and pulled it back down. "Take the sweater off first." When it landed in a pile by her feet, he let Maggie finish with the shirt while he untied her sneakers. It took him a second to figure out the knots as Sarah was apparently unfamiliar with the bunny method.

Once Maggie had returned from placing her dirty clothes in the laundry basket, Chuck gathered her hair, twisting it in a loose bun before fixing the SpongeBob shower cap on her head. Then he lifted her into the tub, squirted soap on a wash cloth and handed it to her. He grabbed a second one and started to scrub her back.

"Can I go with Kitty again tomorrow?" Maggie asked.

"Aunt Ellie is going to come fetch us in the morning," he replied. "She's going to drop me off at work and take you to daycare and later to ballet." He'd already bought a box of Godiva chocolates tucked away in his messenger bag that he would accidently on purpose forget in Ellie's car. It was never easy to get her to accept any token of his appreciation for her going out of her way sometimes to help him out.

"And the day after that?"

"I don't know yet, Boo." He hoped he would have healed enough by then to drive himself around. The possibility that he might have to rely on Casey for a ride was never far from his mind. Between Casey and Morgan, he honestly didn't know who the most reckless driver was.

"Is my recital tomorrow?"

"Nope. Three more sleeps," Chuck said. "Wash behind your ears please."

"Okay."

He held the shower cap in place while Maggie rubbed the cloth over her ears and neck. She stopped suddenly and looked at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Kitty's gonna come to my recital."

It was news to him and Chuck couldn't help but wonder if it was part of the plan to impress Beckman with their little happy family routine. That would be taking it a bit far, he thought, making a mental note to add it to the things he was planning to discuss with Sarah later. And even if her motives were pure, there was the problem of getting an extra ticket on such short notice. Since the fist fight that broke out the year before over 'excessive seat saving', Miss Easton had adopted a more formal approach to the event. Not to mention that Hannah was in charge of allocating the tickets and Chuck suspected that he was the last person she'd be inclined to do a favor for. Either way, he decided to play it safe.

"She might be too busy to make it, Mags."

"Kitty is never too busy for me. She said so."

Kitty's sleeves seemed to be chockfull of surprises, he thought, which meant he had to pull one out of his own if he didn't want his daughter to be disappointed.

* * *

><p><strong>92. The Demise of Charles Charles<strong>

"Will you stop being so dramatic?"

Carina banged her forehead on the smoothly polished mahogany desk one more time before pressing her cheek to the wood, looking at Sarah from her odd angle. "She has the bladder of a squirrel."

"Classy."

"I need a drink." Carina rose and crossed the room to the giant world globe, doubling as a minibar. "Want one?" she asked Sarah, raising an empty whiskey tumbler.

"That depends." Sarah dropped her pen on the pile of papers in front of her and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. "Will it reach my desk or will it mysteriously disappear in the Bermuda Triangle on its way over? Which doesn't even exist, by the way."

"I'll take that as a yes." Carina turned two glasses over and then pulled the top off a crystal decanter with a pop. "So if the Bermuda Triangle doesn't exist, how do you explain all those planes and ships that went missing?" She poured two generous shots.

"_That_ is your concern?"

"That, and the real identity of Jack the Ripper."

"Who is long dead by now."

"Same as Charles Charles. Probably. I considered killing him off in a boating accident, but knowing Beckman she'd insist on attending the memorial. This way, all that's left for us to do is to send out an imaginary search party that will turn up nothing." Her hands stilled and she closed her eyes for a moment, concentrated, and opened them again. "There. Done."

Sarah just shook her head. "Don't you find it strange that Beckman is buying all of this?"

"Maybe she's a few sandwiches short of a picnic."

"Will you get serious for a minute? You know she's going to find out the truth eventually, if not sooner."

"Not sooner," Carina replied. "Not if you keep up this Mommy-of-the-year act." She flipped the lid off the ice bucket, peered inside and frowned. "It's empty."

"No one's fixed a drink from there in six months," Sarah replied, ignoring the jibe. All she got in response was a shrug when Carina dropped the lid back. She picked up both drinks and back at the desk handed one to Sarah.

"Beckman has no reason to suspect us of lying," Carina said, "and by the time she finds out she's been conned, it will be too late. The sale will be final and you and I will be sipping Sangrias on a white sandy beach in San Sebastian."

That was the one topic Sarah wished she could avoid for the time being. A lot had changed in the past week. "Yeah, about that – "

"Uh-uh. No. _No. _We've been planning this trip for ages. You're not bailing on me now. You promised, and you, Sarah Walker, never go back on your word. It's like the one good thing about you."

"The one good thing? Why are you even my friend?"

"Because you're the only person who puts up with me, and don't change the subject. We are not canceling our trip." She finished her drink in one gulp and got up to fix another. "Look, I get it. Right now you think Chuck is your Mills and Boons knight on a white horse, saddle sores aside – but is that really what you want? Don't you want to take charge of your life instead of always following some guy who's just going to end up – "

"Didn't we already have this conversation today?" Sarah cut in.

"If you want my advice," Carina said, ignoring the question, "sleep with him. Get him out of your system and nip this in the bud before you convince yourself of something that's not there. You said it yourself – it's a crush. It'll be over before the plane touches down at Biarritz."

Sarah loved Carina like a sister, she really did, but sometimes the woman drove her nuts. Like a sister would, she supposed. They'd had their share of disagreements over the years, and this could definitely turn into one of those, but Sarah couldn't risk Beckman walking in on it. It was getting late and she simply didn't have the energy to explain yet another awkward situation. Against every instinct she regarded Carina with as much calm as she could muster.

"Maybe you're right." She tried her best not to let the glee clearly written across her friend's face get to her. On the upside, it made her feel less like a jerk for possibly deceiving Carina as she hadn't truly made up her mind yet. Despite that, Sarah said, "Give the travel agent a call in the morning and confirm our reservations."

"So we will be ringing in the new year in Spain?"

Sarah plastered on a smile. "That was the plan."

A shuffling noise from the hallway caused both Sarah and Carina to turn their attention towards the door.

"Shit," Carina said under her breath. "I hope that wasn't Beckman." The doorway remained ominously empty and she let out a relieved chuckle. "Maybe you have ghosts."

Sarah didn't reply. A sudden chill ran down her spine and it had nothing to do with their petite business associate or the paranormal.

"I was kidding," Carina said when Sarah got up to investigate. Sarah waved a hand behind her back to signal for Carina to keep it down. She peered out into the hall, checking both sides. Beckman was nowhere in sight, but it wasn't fear that their lie would be exposed prematurely that had her stomach tied in knots. What it was exactly she didn't know, but as she stared down the vacant hallway, Sarah couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Don't shoot me, I know this is short, but this was the only 'safe' bit I could upload. Plus that cliffhanger works nicely in my favor. See you back here in December. Thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **Oh stop checking your calendars, I know it's not December yet ;-)

This is actually a birthday chapter for my amazing beta and friend, **Nervert**, be it a tad late. Or early, depending on how you look at these things. Happy belated birthday, buddy! I hope the day was as full of surprises as your year has been :D And thank you for helping me 'wrap' your gift. He slayed a lot of cringe worthy grammar for you guys. You owe him.

And thank you, **quistie64 **for answering all my weird questions and keeping Maggie in character. She'd be an oddball without you.

A special shout out goes to **Jem Joven. **Thank you for the (somewhat disturbing) suggestion that made this chapter so much better. In case no one told you, you're a funny lady. Go Lakers!

As always, thank you all for still sticking with this. You sent some pretty cool reviews my way, for which I'm ever so grateful. I still maintain that they are better than royalty checks, and I'm not just saying that because I've never received a royalty check. You're all aces!

I don't own Chuck (hence the lack of royalty checks).

* * *

><p><strong>93. It's a Small World After All <strong>

Chuck switched the game controller from one hand to the other and wiped a clammy palm against his thigh. He glanced down at his watch. Three minutes and twelve seconds had passed since the last time he'd checked. He drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly, but it did little to calm him. The last time he'd been this nervous he was stuck at the top of a Ferris wheel, trying to gather courage to ask Jill out. He had thought it would be romantic; she'd called it moronic. Perhaps he might have taken it as a sign, but he knew if he could get a rewind and do-over, that he'd make the same choice again. He couldn't imagine his life without Maggie in it.

He also knew that he had no reason to be nervous. Sarah was smart and funny and absolutely beautiful, and she liked him, Chuck Bartowski. Plus Morgan often told him that any girl who laughed at his stupid jokes was a keeper. Taking relationship advice from "The Lone Wolf" could perhaps be considered less than ideal, no matter how wise he claimed the beard was, but in this case Chuck thought Morgan had a valid point.

His lopsided grin turned into a full blown one when he felt the couch next to him dip. He'd been so lost in thought that he didn't even hear anyone approach, but it would not be the first time Sarah had snuck up on him. At least she wasn't catching him in an embarrassing situation this time.

"Will you look at the graphics on that thing? Gaming sure has come a long way since Zork."

Chuck's smile faltered as his head snapped around to the person next to him, his mind needing the visual verification. It'd been years since Chuck had heard the voice, but there was no mistaking it. Yet, he had to be sure.

"Bryce."

The man in question raised and spread his arms, as if presenting himself. "In the flesh. How've you been, buddy?"

Chuck couldn't have been more shocked if Bryce had surprised him in the shower.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in? And how did you even know I was here?"

"Woah, slow down, Chuck. We have plenty of time to catch up." Bryce's arms dropped, one casually over the back of the couch, and one hand running through his hair – his annoyingly perfect hair.

And just like that all the suppressed anger and resentment Chuck had carried around since Stanford rose to the surface, along with an unhealthy dose of anxiety. His chest constricted and it felt like he couldn't breathe. Had Bryce found out about Maggie? Did he realize that he could possibly be…? Chuck couldn't even finish the thought. He stood and paced to the other end of the room, putting some distance between himself and Bryce in an attempt to regain his composure. Trying and failing, he spun around and took three long strides, staring Bryce down.

"Get out."

Bryce didn't seem fazed in the least. "That's no way to speak to an old friend, Chuck. Ellie raised you better than that. Besides," he said, "I'm not here to see you." He made himself comfortable, putting his feet up on the coffee table as he settled in to wait. "Be a pal and go call her for me."

Only one thought flashed through Chuck's mind – Bryce knew. "You can't see her. I won't allow it."

"You won't allow it?" Bryce still had that same self-righteous smirk from college. "Sarah is a grown woman, Chuck. She can make up her own mind. And believe me, she'll want to see me."

"Sarah? So you're not here to see – " Realizing he was saying too much, Chuck cut himself short. Then what Bryce said truly sunk in. "How do you know Sarah?"

"She didn't tell you?" Bryce slapped his open palms against the back of the couch, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oh man, this is going to get interesting."

It didn't take a genius to connect the dots, and for the second time in as many minutes Chuck's brain seemed stuck. Bryce and Sarah. His arch nemesis and the woman he was in love with used to be… well, he wasn't sure exactly what, but he had a fairly good idea.

"I see you figured it out already," Bryce said, glancing down at Chuck's hands that were balled into fists. "Don't be mad, Chuck. I nibbled on your leftovers. It seems only fair that you return the favor."

Chuck gritted his teeth, forcing himself to not point out that he and Jill had still been dating at the time. Starting a verbal sparring with his former roommate over his former girlfriend was a sure way for the truth to slip out. He was not about to reveal his suspicions about the consequences of Jill's unfaithfulness, and he definitely didn't want to give Bryce an invitation to reveal the sordid details about his past with Sarah. Knowing Bryce like he did, Chuck could venture a pretty good guess as to how that relationship had ended.

Bryce was about to say something else, but then turned his head, and for the first time Chuck noticed Sarah standing in the doorway. She visibly paled when her eyes met Bryce's, and that was all the confirmation Chuck needed.

* * *

><p><strong>94. Terms and Conditions<strong>

Sarah recovered from her initial shock quickly and rounded the couch, not taking her eyes off Bryce. She didn't think he'd be foolish enough to return, but she was evidently mistaken.

"Great," Bryce said, "the gang's all here."

That reminded Sarah that she'd come down to the den looking for Chuck, and tearing her gaze away from her despicable ex, she found Chuck staring at her, his eyes dark and his lips pursed together in a thin line as if he was forcing himself not to speak. Either Bryce had said something to upset him, which were lies, no doubt, or Chuck was the source of the unexplained noise outside the study. She took a tentative step towards him.

"Chuck," she said, "I can explain."

He simply shook his head as his features softened a bit. "It's not you."

She closed the gap between them in two strides, gently grabbing his forearm. The tension in his muscles didn't escape her. "Are you sure?"

"You're being rude to your guest," Bryce cut in.

"You're not a guest," Chuck and Sarah replied at the same time.

"Boy, this is one hostile household." They both turned to glare at him and Bryce held his hands up in surrender. "I just want to have a conversation. That's all."

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say," Sarah replied.

"And neither am I," Chuck added.

Sarah squeezed his arm to get his attention. "What did he tell you?"

Chuck didn't seem to register the question. "I asked you to leave," he told Bryce.

"Well, you didn't ask very nicely."

Sarah could swear she heard Chuck growl. Then Bryce pushed to his feet and reached for the framed picture on the end table. He picked it up and studied it for a moment, before turning it around to face them. It was a photograph of Chuck, Sarah and Maggie, taken by the fountain on the day they redecorated the house.

"You should be interested in what I have to say. Or not say, in this case."

Sarah knew exactly where the conversation was headed. "How much do you want, Bryce?"

"I was thinking somewhere north of a million, south of two."

Chuck nearly choked. "Dollars?"

"No, arcade tokens, Chuck. Of course dollars."

"You want two million dollars or else you will expose us? That's blackmail."

"You're up to speed. Terrific." Bryce took another look at the picture and tossed it casually onto the couch. "The kid's a nice touch. Does the orphanage rent them out by hour? Not that Sarah can't afford it."

Chuck jolted at the mention of Maggie, and then it hit her – Stanford, Engineering, Class of 2004, Gamma Delta Phi. If they had all that in common, then sharing a room and hooking up with the same girl weren't out of the realm of possibility. And framing Chuck for cheating sounded exactly like something Bryce would do. She glanced at Chuck, who was still staring daggers at Bryce, and wondered if Bryce had said anything about their past involvement. Not that she was hiding it from Chuck – how was she supposed to know they'd been screwed over by the same person? She had to get rid of Bryce so she could explain the situation to Chuck, and there was only one way to do that.

"Okay, Bryce," she said. "Let's make it two million." She could practically feel Chuck's eyes boring into the side of her head as he pulled his arm free, but she could only deal with one thing at a time. Ignoring Bryce's triumphant smirk, she folded her arms across her chest. "Send me your account details and I'll transfer the money the day after Christmas."

Bryce's expression sobered, if only slightly. "That doesn't work for me. I'll take a check. Now."

Sarah had expected as much, but was careful to not overplay her hand. She already might have by offering him the maximum off the bat. "I'll give you a check, on the twenty sixth. Take it or leave it."

Bryce mimicked her stance. "What guarantee do I have that you won't back out? After Christmas you have nothing left to lose."

"What guarantee do I have that you won't tell Beckman anyway? Or be back for more? This is your best shot, Bryce. You can take me at my word, or you can go to Diane with the truth and not get a dime. Somehow I doubt finding out she's been duped is worth two million to her."

"You will lose the sale. And if word of this little sham hits the press – "

"It will still leave you with nothing."

Bryce mulled it over, then nodded. "Okay. We'll do it your way, but if you double cross me, you will regret it. Trust me."

Trusting Bryce Larkin was a mistake Sarah didn't intend to repeat, but she didn't take his threat lightly. She had to get him out of the house and out of their lives before he started doing the math. "There will be a check waiting for you at my office at noon on the twenty sixth." Then she gestured to the door. "I think we're done here."

* * *

><p><strong>95. A Kiss with a Fist<strong>

Chuck watched the exchange, not saying a word. To say he was relieved when he realized Bryce didn't seem to have a clue about Maggie was the understatement of the century, but that didn't stop the rage building up in his gut. Bryce was shamelessly exploiting Sarah, and she was letting him. Granted, she didn't seem to have much choice in the matter, but Chuck couldn't help wondering if there was another reason she'd agreed to fork out two million dollars without blinking? Either way, he couldn't see the back of Bryce soon enough, but the latter stubbornly held his ground, eyeing Sarah up and down. The leering stare sent irritating tingles up Chuck's spine. He was about to tell Bryce for the third time to leave, but didn't get the chance.

"I think I changed my mind," Bryce said to Sarah. "I like this side of you – so assertive and straight forward." Then he smirked again and Chuck could feel his fingernails digging into his palms. "Throw in a night of _that_ between the sheets and I'll knock a couple of hundred off the asking price."

Chuck wasn't even aware that he'd moved, not until he felt his knuckles connect with Bryce's jaw. He honestly didn't plan it, violence was not in his nature, but a strange sense of satisfaction washed over him when he saw Bryce, sprawled out over the carpet. He clearly wasn't expecting it either. Bryce touched his busted lip and stared at the blood on his fingertips, then up at Chuck who was hovering above him, nostrils flaring.

"You punched me."

"Terrific," Chuck said, "you're up to speed." He leaned down, grabbed Bryce by the collar and sleeve of his expensive suit and hauled him to his feet. "Sorry if I bruised your ego," he said, not sounding apologetic in the least. "But just so you know, I'm not sorry about your face." Bryce only huffed in response. Chuck nudged him towards Sarah. Her eyes bounced between the two men. "I'd tell him to apologize, but somehow I doubt that he'll mean it."

She snapped her mouth shut. "I don't want anything from him."

"Okay, good. Come on, Bryce." Chuck tightened his grip and swung him to his right, but before he shoved Bryce forward he leaned over and pressed his lips to Sarah's, simply because it felt like the right thing to do. "I'll be right back."

He frog-marched Bryce to the door, but had to stop when he realized Casey was blocking their exit. The butler gave them a raised eyebrow and stepped aside to let them pass, following closely behind when they did so. Chuck almost said something to Casey about having his back, but kept quiet instead. He was still getting a feel for the guy and a comment like that might not be as appreciated as he'd imagined.

"That was a nice display back there," Bryce said, "marking your territory like that." Apparently he'd regained his cockiness somewhere between the kitchen and the entrance hall, despite of the fact that he was physically being escorted out of the house. "But you're in for heartbreak, buddy."

"Do you want me to punch you again?" Chuck asked. "And stop calling me 'buddy'. That was a lifetime ago."

"I'm just trying to give you a heads up, Chuck, for old times' sake. Sarah is playing you. As soon as the Buy More is off her hands, she and Carina are going to hightail it out of here faster than you can say 'beam me up, Scottie'. I overheard them talking."

The Bryce he knew from college always had an agenda, and apparently that hadn't changed, but Chuck couldn't fathom what his former frat brother would gain from telling him this. He was probably just trying to mess with his head.

"I don't believe you, Bryce. It's none of your business anyway." They reached the front door before the conversation could go any further and Chuck shot a glance over his shoulder at Casey. "Will you do the honors? My hands are kinda full."

Without a word Casey reached past them and swung the door open, making a sweeping gesture with his free hand. Quiet, glaring Casey was even more imposing than grunts-a-lot Casey, something Chuck decided to use to his advantage. He pushed Bryce a little harder than necessary through the door and watched as he stumbled onto the porch before regaining his footing and spinning around.

"If you ever come back here I'll sic Casey on you," Chuck said. Casey added a grunt in agreement.

Bryce took a step back, dusted off his jacket with his palms and opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off when Casey unceremoniously slammed the door in his face. Then he turned to Chuck, folding his arms across his chest.

"Nice comeback." Chuck expected another grunt in reply, but then the big man surprised him.

"Nice right hook."

"Thank you, Casey."

"Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it?"

Chuck wanted to deny it, but his hand was throbbing now that the adrenaline was wearing off, as were his inner thighs after forcefully escorting Bryce through the house. "Yeah," he said.

This time Casey did grunt as the left corner of his lip curled upward in what might have been the beginning of the smile, and when he walked away, he gave Chuck a not too gentle pat on the back. "I'm sure Sarah won't mind icing it for you."

* * *

><p><strong>96. When Worlds Collide<strong>

"Frog balls," Carina said on the other end of the line. Sarah shared the sentiment, even though Carina's attempt at 'soft swearing' failed miserably. "Do you want him taken out?"

"Already working on it," Sarah replied. Carina made a strangled noise in response and Sarah didn't need video chat to imagine the accompanying facial expression, but there wasn't really time to go into detail. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom from where she had an unobstructed view of the stairs and landing, making sure that no-one could sneak up on her or eavesdrop. Nonetheless, she dropped her tone. "You just concentrate on that assignment I gave you this afternoon and leave Bryce Larkin to me."

"You're not really going to have him whacked, are you?"

"No, much worse."

"I like this plan already."

She wondered if Carina would be so enthusiastic if she knew what the possible consequences could be, but Sarah had no other options. Spotting Chuck heading in her direction, limping slightly, she cut the call short.

"I have to go."

She slipped the phone into the pocket of her slacks and headed into the room. He followed wordlessly and when she sank down on the edge of the bed, he did the same. She couldn't help but notice the distance he'd left between them. For the first time it struck her how much empty space there was with two people on a king size mattress.

They sat like that for a couple of minutes, staring at the opposite wall, each with their own thoughts. The silence quickly became uncomfortable and Sarah knew she should say something, but for the life of her she didn't know what. Should she explain? Apologize? But how was she supposed to know that, of all the douche bags in the world she'd get involved with, it'd be public enemy number one of the guy she wanted to stick around for? A small part of her still held onto the hope that perhaps she'd jumped to the wrong conclusions earlier. Stanford was a big place, and the frat house connection could be a coincidence. And maybe she'd misread Chuck's reaction. Or maybe she hadn't. As much as she tried to justify it, she knew it was wishful thinking, and a conversation they could not avoid, so she decided to face it head on.

"Bryce was your roommate at Stanford."

"Yes."

"He was the one who stole those tests and framed you."

"Yes."

"And he slept with your girlfriend."

"That pretty much sums it up, yeah."

Sarah knew there was more to it, but she was not going to poke the ten thousand pound elephant in the room, not until Carina told her it was safe to do so. Not until she was sure she had a safety net in place.

"I guess that punch was a long time coming."

Chuck shrugged a shoulder in response and just when she thought that another awkward silence was about to follow, he asked, "How long were you two…together?"

She bit her bottom lip to buy some time. Bryce had told him. She didn't really expect anything less.

"Eight months," she finally said.

"Did he break your heart?"

"It wasn't his to break." Saying it out loud, Sarah realized that it was true. Bryce had hurt her, but not in the way that Chuck meant. She felt betrayed, disappointed and angry at herself for not realizing she was being used, but that was the extent of it. Sensing that he was finally looking at her, she turned her head to meet his gaze. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly Bryce had told him, but that hardly mattered. There were some things she simply couldn't undo. "This changes everything, doesn't it?"

Chuck's eyebrows knit together. "Why?"

"Why?" She got to her feet and paced across the room and back, running both hands through her hands through her hair. She pulled up short of where Chuck was sitting, his head tilted slightly back as he looked up at her, and blew out a long breath. "Because now," she said, "every time you look at me, you're going to think about him."

He studied her for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "I have a lot of practice compartmentalizing when it comes to Bryce Larkin."

"Yeah, but this, you and me, it's a different situation."

"I know."

"So you don't care that he and I –"

"Of course I care," Chuck cut in. "Sarah, look, you and Bryce, it makes sense. He always got the great girls. He can be really charming when he wants something, and then, once he gets it, he moves onto his next target. No one deserves to be treated that way, least of all you. Honestly, it makes me furious to think that he could do that. But I promised myself a long time ago that I'm not going to dwell on what he's done or let it dictate my life. If I do that, he wins, and I'm not going to waste my time or sacrifice my happiness because of him. He doesn't deserve it. All I want is for him to stay away from us, all of us."

He made an excellent point. Being happy in spite of Bryce was the best payback she could think of. Well, perhaps not the best, she thought.

"I want the same thing, Chuck," she said. "And I'm going to make it happen."

"By paying him off? He'll just be back for more once he realizes what you're doing."

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not paying him anything. When he shows up for his blackmail money, he'll be leaving in handcuffs. Fraud and blackmail carry rather lengthy prison sentences."

"You're going to have him arrested? I almost feel bad for him."

"I don't. It's time he faces the consequences of his actions. Bryce will be out of our lives, Chuck, and Maggie will probably be in college before he's a free man again."

She thought he'd be relieved, but instead Chuck seemed worried. "What if he lays counter charges? I can be arrested for assault."

"It will be his word against yours. Casey and I didn't see a thing."

His eyes widened at that. "You would commit perjury for me?"

"If that's what it takes, yes." She'd do almost anything to ensure he kept custody of his daughter, but she couldn't tell him that. Not yet.

"For the record," he said, "I never had the urge to break Bryce's face until today."

Chuck pushed to his feet slowly, grimacing when he accidently put weight on his right hand. Sarah stepped forward and took his injured hand in both of hers, gently brushing her thumb over his swollen knuckles. His confession left her a little breathless, but she didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm a big girl, you know," she said instead. "I can fight my own battles."

"I guess my fist was just faster this time."

She looked up at him. "Well, I think it was sweet, you defending my honor like that."

"Sweet? Golly gee, thanks for making me feel like I'm eight."

"That's not…" She trailed off when she saw him fail to suppress a wide grin. It prompted one of her own as she felt the tension of moments ago melt away. Chuck didn't hate her, and though it wasn't Christmas yet, she couldn't have asked for a bigger gift. He was truly amazing. "Come on," she said, starting for the bathroom and gently pulling him along, "the least I can do is bandage you up."

"You know," Chuck said, "before I met you the worst injury I suffered was chaffed fingers from handling the controller for too long."

Sarah shot him a glance over her shoulder, raising an intrigued eyebrow.

"Video games," Chuck tried to clarify, clearly horrified. "I'm talking about video games."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And this is where I leave you. If you follow me Twitter you'd know that I'm giving NaNoWriMo the old college try. No one has lost so badly at anything since Brazil went up against Germany in the World Cup (and my money was on Brazil). But even though the word count is lacking it got me writing (17k words in 20 days), which means Cover Life is progressing faster than it has in the last two years, so I will see you back here on December 1st for the next installment. It's also the chapter in which we reach scene 100, and word on the street is that you don't want to miss that one. See you soon.


	23. Chapter 23

**It's a Wonderful Cover Life**

**A/N: **Apparently I have the patience of a flea. This is your Dec 1st chapter, but like a kid on Christmas morning I can't sit on this for a week, so consider it a Sunday surprise. Surprise!

Big, big thank you's to Team Cover Life for their contributions: **Quistie64, **my Maggie-consultant, and **Nervert, **for fitting me into his busy schedule. You guys rock.

As I've mentioned before, this chapter is a milestone. 100 chapters, baby! I hope you enjoy reading that one as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I don't own Chuck.

* * *

><p><strong>97. Tattoo Trouble<strong>

Chuck stretched his arms over his head and yawned widely before taking a deep breath through his nose. His eyes blinked open as he clenched his hands into fists only to snap his right palm open when he felt the sensitive skin stretch painfully across his knuckles. He couldn't believe he'd slept so well after the nasty surprise from the day before, but he figured that had everything to do with the blonde that had curled into his side when they'd finally made it to bed. Apparently he'd been pretty dead to the world, given that she'd gotten up without waking him. He ran a hand over the rumpled sheets which were already cold. Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress he sat up and rubbed his hands across his face. Sarah was probably working out, he thought, though if she'd been up at four in the morning again, perhaps he ought to worry about her sanity. The alarm clock on the nightstand told him he didn't have much time for that. He was already fifteen minutes late and Ellie would kill him if he made her late for rounds. He hurried to the dressing room to grab his uniform, vaguely registering that his legs were starting to feel a lot better, then made his way to the bathroom with long strides. He rushed through his morning hygiene routine, thanking the hair gods that his curls obeyed on the first try to tame them. Twenty minutes later he was hopping down the hallway, his shirttails still hanging over his pants as he tried to put on his second shoe without doing a face plant into the carpet. He managed to slip his foot in right before he reached Maggie's door, but as he was about to push it open all the way he heard voices from inside and paused.

"…and mister Tyler says the ink doesn't come off ever," he heard Maggie say. "Can I draw with that ink on my arms too, Kitty?"

"Not until you're forty five," Sarah replied.

Curious, Chuck peered through the crack of the door. Maggie, fully dressed in jeans and a purple Minnie Mouse hoodie, was sitting at the desk that doubled as a vanity, as Sarah was tying her hair in two ponytails. It seemed they were not going to be late after all.

"That's a little harsh," Chuck said as he entered the room. "We can discuss it when you're forty." He never thought he'd have the 'you can't get a tattoo' conversation with her until she'd reached high school, but then again he'd never factored in Sarah's personal assistant. Maggie had told him all about mister Tyler when he'd put her to bed, but she'd failed to mention the magic ink. He leaned over for his good morning kiss on the cheek and a one arm hug before running his fingers through her fringe, straightening out the short wisps.

"When's that?" Maggie asked.

"Many, many baths from now," Chuck said.

Sarah shot him a curious look as he did the math in his head, mumbling "carry the one" and writing with his finger on an imaginary chalkboard. "Twelve thousand," he said, "give or take a hundred and two."

"Huh?" Maggie said, her face scrunched in confusion.

"It's a lot of baths," Sarah replied. She ran the brush through Maggie's hair one last time to make sure she'd gotten all the tangles, sending Chuck a sideways glance. "And if that's accurate, I will be suitably impressed."

"Please," he said without a hint of modesty, secretly thrilled that he could awe her with his hidden proficiency with numbers, "it's me. Of course it's accurate."

"Wow, you're talents are definitely wasted at the Buy More."

"Not for much longer."

"You handed in your notice?"

Chuck nodded as he slipped his hand over Maggie's eyes before giving Sarah a quick peck on the cheek. He pulled away, but then quickly dove in for another one when she turned her head, on the lips this time.

"I know you're kissing," Maggie said. "I'm not dumb."

He felt Sarah's mouth curl under his, leaving him no choice but to lift his head.

"She takes after her dad," he said.

"Told you." Sarah smiled at him and lifted the little off the chair. Grabbing Mr. Oink from the bed behind her she handed the little girl her stuffed pig. "Why don't you go downstairs to see what Lou made for breakfast?"

"Okay." Halfway to the door she stopped and spun around. "Thank you for helping me get dressed, Kitty."

Sarah smiled back at her. "You're welcome, sweetie."

"Be careful on the stairs," Chuck called after her. Maggie sent him a thumbs up over her shoulder, something he assumed her soon to be uncle Awesome had taught her. Then he remembered his untied shoe and hunched down to fix it as Sarah tidied up the room.

"The alarm didn't ring," he said.

"I reset it. I thought I'd let you sleep in a bit while I got Maggie ready." When he straightened he found Sarah giving him a once over, taking in his not quite ready for work appearance. "I suppose I should've left you a note."

Chuck cocked his head to the side, his haste to be on time forgotten. "You're enjoying this parenting gig, aren't you?"

Sarah raised and dropped a shoulder, though the hint of a blush on her cheeks contradicted the aloof gesture. She stepped up close to him and reached for the grey tie sticking out of his pants pocket. She looped it around his neck and made short work of the knot before turning his collar down.

"For what it's worth," he continued, "I think you'll be a great mother someday."

"Someday," she mused, avoiding his eyes as she smoothed out the thin strip of polyester across his chest before taking a step back. Sensing that the conversation had taken a serious turn at exactly the wrong time, he cleared his throat, twisting his fingers around his tie and flipping up the end.

"Wouldn't Beckman get suspicious if she sees me in my full Buy More glory?" Not that he knew what Beckman thought he did for a living, he thought as he tucked in his shirt, but he didn't get a chance to ask.

"We're leaving soon," Sarah said. "There's a lot to get through today, so give me a five minute head start and you won't run into her." She ducked into the closet to retrieve Maggie's backpack and passed it to him.

"What about breakfast?" he asked. "You can't wheel and deal on an empty stomach."

"We'll order in from the deli down the block. Tomorrow we'll have a family breakfast as usual, but no Fruit Loops for Maggie, or else she might join the cast on stage."

It took him a second to catch up, he'd completely forgotten about The Nutcracker, something he should've remembered before he'd handed Big Mike his resignation letter.

"Yeah, about that … I haven't asked Big Mike for time off yet and I don't know if I can now that I'm working my notice."

She reached for his tie again to adjust the knot. Then she pushed onto her toes until they were almost nose to nose and cupped his jaw with both hands.

"Don't worry." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll call in a computer emergency first thing in the morning and request you personally. It should keep you busy all day."

With a hand on the small of her back Chuck prevented Sarah from pulling away just yet, which, now that he'd thought about it, was a really bad idea. It put him within smacking range, and he was sure that's what would follow if he told her that he'd accidently spilled half the beans to the store manager. A service request from her would have Big Mike assume that it was a booty call, and Chuck wasn't particularly keen on finding out if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

"It's okay," he said, letting her go, hoping it was subtle enough to not raise her suspicions. "I'll man up and take care of it."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at that and for a second he thought she was onto him. Then the corner of her mouth twisted upwards. "You're going to call in sick."

So maybe she did bust him, but at least not in the way he'd anticipated. He grinned back at her. "Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>98. Pest Control<strong>

"Please excuse me," Beckman said as she pushed away from the conference table, her ringing mobile phone in hand. "I need to take this."

She was barely out of the room before Carina leaned across the polished surface and took Sarah's pen from her while she was in the middle of jotting down a note.

"What?" Sarah asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

Carina shot a look over her shoulder. "Well?" she asked when she was satisfied that the coast was clear. "Have you taken care of the Bryce problem yet?"

"Yes, Carina. I slipped out in the middle of the night, went over to his hotel and put a bullet between his eyes while he was sleeping." Sarah reached over and grabbed her pen back. "Casey is making the necessary arrangements," she said, dropping the sarcasm.

"You asked Casey to off him? That's smart, if the cops can't trace it back to you. Personally I'd go for cutting his brakes and making it look like an accident – "

"No one is getting offed or whacked or having their car tampered with. I really worry about your state of mind sometimes."

"You're the one who brought it up," Carina said. Then she held up her palms when Sarah flashed her a look. "I wasn't serious. So what is this master plan of yours?"

Sarah was reluctant to reveal the details, but she knew the redhead wouldn't stop pestering her until she did. She glanced at the door this time, making sure Beckman didn't return unexpectedly, kind of hoping that she would just to buy her a little more time. When that didn't happen, Sarah shifted in her seat.

She recounted briefly what she'd told Chuck, adding that she'd asked Casey to get in touch with his contact at the LAPD to set up the sting. Carina's face grew redder as Sarah spoke, and was almost the color of her hair when she rolled her chair back and stood up. With both palms on the table she towered over Sarah, but Sarah was familiar with the intimidation tactics and coolly regarded her from her seated position.

"Are you crazy?" Carina asked. "You will sink this whole deal."

"It's not going down until the contract is signed. The odds of Diane finding out are very small."

"Until it's splashed all over the front page of the New York Times."

"I seriously doubt The New York Times will be interested in such a small scandal happening on the opposite coast. The local papers might carry it for a day or two and then it will blow over."

Carina frowned at her. "You've clearly been too busy playing house to keep up with the news. William Larkin has announced his plans to run for senator in the next election. Can you imagine the field day his opposition will have if his son is arrested? And don't think for a second that the Larkins won't hit back. They'll blame everything on you, the scorned ex-girlfriend. And when Beckman gets wind of it, she'll add her two cents about how you deceived her and the whole thing will backfire. Badly."

Sarah wanted to point out that the evidence was stacked against Bryce, but the argument died on her lips. It wouldn't matter. When it came to politics a whole different set of rules applied, and newspapers were far more interested in sensationalism than facts. She clenched her jaw as her fingers tightened around her pen, and then, in a moment of weakness, her self-control slipped as she hurled it across the table. It bounced twice before rolling off the other end. Carina followed the pen's path and then looked at Sarah again.

"That about sums it up," she said, sitting back down.

Sarah huffed out her frustration. Her entire plan to keep Bryce away from Chuck and Maggie had just gone up in smoke. Though Carina hadn't explicitly said it, Sarah knew that if she went down, Carina would go down with her, as would Chuck. His hopes of starting up his own company would suffer a severe setback and if it so happened that he found himself in a situation where he'd have to fight for custody of his daughter, being involved in a scandal like the one Carina had predicted could pretty much sink his chances. They'd all be royally screwed.

"So what now?" Sarah asked tersely, not completely sure that if Carina recommended foul play again that she would shoot the idea down. She wished she'd brought charges against Bryce three months ago, then none of this would be happening, but that ship had sailed.

"Pay him," Carina said. "Two million is not going to put you in the poor house."

"That's a short term solution to a long term problem."

Carina shook her head in disagreement. "He can't hold this over your head forever." As she said it Sarah could practically see the penny drop, but before either of them could say anything more they heard Beckman's voice outside the conference room as she finished up her call.

With one eye on the door, Carina scrawled something on the legal pad in front of her and passed it across to Sarah as Beckman entered.

"I'm sorry that took so long," she said, taking her seat. She slipped her reading glasses back on her nose and straightened the papers in front of her.

Sarah responded with an absent nod as she tried to read Carina's chicken scratch, but all she could make out was 'phone calls', 'favors' and 'all set', and when she sent her a questioning look, Carina mouthed, "Pay him."

Beckman looked up from her copy of the contract at precisely the wrong time. "Is there a problem?"

"A little pest control issue," Carina said, smiling sweetly, "but don't worry, we have a handle on it."

* * *

><p><strong>99. Daydream Believer <strong>

With an elbow propped up on the Nerd Herd desk and his chin in his healthy hand, Chuck watched the shoppers meander through the aisles. He saw a woman on three studying an alarm clock and snorted, wondering who such a practical, but lame, gift was intended for. If it was anyone other than that irritating coworker two cubicles over whose name she was unfortunate enough to draw from the Secret Santa Hat, then her gift choice was just plain wrong.

Despite the larger than normal crowd, the desk had been quiet, leaving Chuck rather bored. He'd been down to the cage, but after trying to repair a PC that was nearly older than he was, only to have the screwdriver slip, resulting in him hitting the back of his hand against the sharp inside edge of the desktop's casing, he'd decided to leave it for someone else fix. Most likely Santa's elves, he mused, as Jeff and Lester had declared themselves Mac guys and refused to touch anything that didn't bear an oddly smooth bitten apple.

He scanned the shop once more for any approaching customers and when he didn't see any his mind started to wander. He pictured Sarah in the black business suit she'd chosen this morning, her hair pinned up in an elegant French roll. He could practically see her sitting behind her desk in an oversized leather chair, framed by a glass wall overlooking the city. But she was not looking at the view. Instead she was studying some sort of report, her nose scrunched up in that cute way it did whenever she was concentrating. Without taking her eyes off her computer screen, she unbuttoned her jacket to get more comfortable, letting the lapels part to reveal the crisp white blouse tucked neatly into her knee high skirt which accentuated her slender waist.

"Jeff thought he was going to eat ninety Twinkies in under three minutes, but the bet was actually for ninety boxes. We thought he was going to die."

Chuck barely heard Morgan as he imagined Sarah crossing one knee over the other, causing her skirt to ride up an inch or two, exposing a long, well-toned leg that ended in a shapely ankle. Her high heel-clad foot bobbed up and down as she absentmindedly chewed on the earpiece of her glasses.

"That's nice," Chuck replied, still staring off into space.

"Tell that to the guys who had to clean Loretta afterwards. You should've been there, Chuck. There was cream filling everywhere. I'll never eat another Twinkie as long as I live."

Chuck let out a longing sigh. "Sure," he said, "we can have Twinkies for lunch."

Morgan grabbed the back of Chuck's chair and spun it around, pulling him out of his fantasy in the cruelest way.

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying." Chuck's disappointment at the interruption must have shown on his face because his bearded friend took a step back in the already restricted space, clearly distressed. "Oh man," he said. "Oh, Chuck, I'm so sorry."

Chuck's eyes widened and his ears started to burn. "What? Why?" He tried to remember if he'd inadvertently let something slip to give away what was going on his head, but all he could think about was Sarah's soft lips, wrapped around that earpiece.

"You had 'The Talk' with Sarah last night and she shot you down. Oh, that sucks."

It took Chuck a second to catch up and he almost expelled a relieved breath when he realized where the conversation was heading.

"No," he said, "we didn't – " He cut himself short. If he told Morgan that 'The Talk' didn't happen, at least not in the way he'd planned, he'd have to explain about Bryce, and that was a topic best left alone. Sarah had it under control and he trusted her. "She didn't shoot me down," he said instead.

"She didn't?" A grin split his beard in two. "Well, forgive me for borrowing a phrase from the Captain, but that's awesome. Put it there, buddy." Morgan raised a hand for a high five, and immature as it was, Chuck decided to humor him, but Morgan's arm dropped before he could make contact. "Ouch," Morgan said, his eyes bouncing between Chuck's face and his bandaged hand. "Did the headboard do that? Sarah is a real tiger, isn't she? How are your – " He made a V with his fingers, pointing to the floor, his hands slightly lower than his waist. " – other parts?"

Chuck slapped both hands over his face, shaking his head. "Morgan!"

And when he thought he couldn't be any more horrified, Chuck heard Jeff's drawl behind him. "What is that? The new secret handshake the cool kids use these days?"

"Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey," Lester replied, "everybody knows that's the universal sign for – "

"Guys," Chuck cut in, letting his hands drop as he whirled his chair around. "Don't you have a song to rehearse for the Christmas … holiday party," he quickly amended under Lester's sneer.

"Please, Charles," Lester said, "we're professionals."

"Even professionals practice," Chuck replied. "It keeps them on top of their game."

Lester made the same face Maggie did when evaluating the merit of what Chuck had said.

"He's right, you know. You go lubricate your throat and I'll warm up the mike," Jeff said, before staggering in the direction of the home theatre room.

Lester stayed behind, but only for a second. Then a look between shock and revulsion crossed his face as he took off after Jeff. "I will warm up my own microphone, Jeffrey! Jefferson, wait! I'm not letting you touch it again!"

Chuck forehead hit the desk with an audible thump and he groaned, promising himself to think about this moment whenever he missed this job. He hoped it wouldn't be too often.

"Okay," Morgan said, reminding Chuck that he'd forgotten all about him. "Where were we?"

"Sales targets." Sitting up straight, he swung his chair back, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Look at all these people, Morgan. They're like a herd of wounded gazelles. Easy prey." He stood and grabbed his buddy by the shoulders. "Go. Sell. Release your inner sales beast and go straight for the throat."

"Go straight for the kill," Morgan said, pumping a fist in the air.

"Yes."

Morgan was the only adult he knew, and he used that term loosely, that could be as easily distracted as his four year old. Chuck watched in quiet amusement as he hopped onto the counter, did a karate kick jump off the other side and zoomed in on his first target. Happy to be alone again, Chuck plopped into his chair and took up his previous position of chin in hand, free to continue his daydream.

* * *

><p><strong>100. Drinks and a Show<strong>

The world made a lot more sense from the inside of a steaming hot bubble bath. Sarah sunk back against the edge of the tub with a contented sigh. It was the first time in a week she'd gotten some alone time to just kick back and regroup. She lifted the wine glass to her lips and took a sip, savoring the taste of the juicy plum and chocolate flavors on her tongue before swallowing the velvety red liquid. The merlot was a good choice to warm herself up from the inside. The chill in the California air had turned a bit too icy for her liking, leaving her cold to the bone by the time she'd returned home. But that was a distant memory as she felt her muscles relax and the tension that had been building up in her shoulders melt away.

It had been a long day of negotiations but they'd managed to hammer out a contract which all parties were in agreement with. All that remained was for Beckman's attorneys to review the legal jargon and once the last minute changes were made, they could sign and everything would be over with.

Not everything, she thought.

There was still the matter of Bryce Larkin. She and Carina hadn't gotten another opportunity to discuss it further, and then Carina had disappeared with a "hot date, see you tomorrow" right after uncle Roan had showed up to take Beckman to dinner. Sarah had tried calling, but kept getting voicemail. She supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world to let the problem marinate overnight, but as much as she tried to put it out of her head, it kept bugging her that Bryce knew exactly when to show up. It could not be a coincidence.

She took another sip of wine and closed her eyes, forcing all the negativity out of her head. There was nothing she could do about Bryce at that exact moment, so it was pointless to let thoughts of him spoil her evening. All she wanted was a quiet evening at home with Chuck and Maggie. No surprise visits from exes, no pretend in-laws and no Beckman. She owed her uncle big for that one and wondered how a nice fancy retirement condo in Palm Springs would grab him.

"Oh boy."

Sarah's eyes snapped open, meeting Chuck's equally wide ones through a thin cloud of steam. Failing to suppress a startled shriek, she was barely aware of the wine glass slipping through her fingers. It hit the edge of the tub and shattered, sending shards of glass into the water. That she did notice as her survival instincts kicked in, and she shot up to avoid getting cut. An audible gasp divided her attention between the hazard at her feet and the man standing frozen in the middle of the bathroom. Chuck's jaw went slack, as did her own, when she grabbed for the nearest towel to cover up. She let it fall open, only to discover that it was a hand towel, which didn't cover a thing. She ditched it, not caring when it fell into the water, opting to shield herself with her arms and hands instead.

Chuck recovered his ability of speech first. "Sarah, I am so sorry. I didn't know you were naked…home. I didn't know you were home – " He trailed off as his gaze did the same.

"Chuck," she said, snapping her fingers at him to get his attention and then pointing two at her face. "Eyes up here."

He obeyed, tilting his head back up, but not before hitting a slight speed bump on the way, making her realize that she shouldn't have moved her hand, which she quickly returned to her chest.

When he still didn't make a move to retreat into the bedroom, she asked, "Could you turn around?"

The question caused him to finally blink. "Yeah. Sorry." He spun around, crashing his hip into the basin in the process. He groaned, bending over sideways, his bandaged hand rubbing the injured spot. "I'm sorry," he said again, "It was an accident, I swear. And I didn't even see that much. The bubbles and your hands were blocking most of the age restricted bits and – "

Sarah blushed to her roots. "Chuck, stop talking."

"Yeah, that's probably for the best."

They stood like that for a beat, both silent, until a shiver ran down her spine and goose bumps started to break out over her skin as her body cooled down from the bath, expedited by her lack of clothes.

"Not to be rude, Chuck," she said, "but could you perhaps leave?"

"I'm going to need a minute," he replied.

"Your hip?"

He shook his head as his ears turned red and Sarah almost groaned out loud when she realized what he meant. Chuck should really learn to be a little less honest. "Could you perhaps take that minute in the bedroom?" she asked and cringed. She couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"Yeah. Sure. Why didn't I think of that?" He took a limping step forward. "Do you want the door open or closed?" He didn't wait for a response. "I'll just close it," he answered his own question.

**oooOooo**

"Wow. Oh, wow-ee wow."

Chuck slapped both hands over his mouth when he realized he'd said it out loud, hoping that Sarah couldn't hear him from the other side of the door. He really hadn't meant to invade her privacy like that. He should've knocked. Maybe he did knock. He tried to remember if he had knocked, but his short term memory seemed to be temporarily overridden. Or perhaps permanently. All he could recall was that she'd been on his mind all day, but not quite like _that_. He gave himself a mental shake. He _always_ knocked. Since walking in on Ellie and Awesome in the shower…

The disturbing turn his thoughts had taken took care of his pressing problem, which was lucky as Ellie stormed into the room, looking panicked. He stared at her for a second before remembering that she'd come in after driving him home, wanting to speak to Sarah about the arrangements for Christmas Day.

"Is everything okay?" Ellie asked. "It sounded like someone was being attacked in here. What happened to your hip?"

The second part of 'we' followed short on her heels, clutching Mr. Oink under her arm. "Where's Kitty? I heard her scream all the way to my room."

Chuck's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. As if it wasn't bad enough that he'd walked in on Sarah he now had to deal with an onslaught of questions from his sister and daughter of all people. But then it got worse when Casey appeared in the doorway.

"What happened?" he asked gruffly.

"Nothing happened," Chuck replied. "Everyone is fine, thank you, Casey." Thankfully the butler got the message and disappeared as fast as he appeared. It was a little creepy, really.

"It didn't sound like nothing," Ellie said.

"There was a spider." Chuck waved in the direction of the door behind him, mentally adding another bad karma point to the tally in head. "A really, really big spider. In the bathroom. That's where Kitty is. In the bathroom. Na…not in here."

"Did you catch it?" Maggie asked, bobbing excitedly on the spot. "Can I keep it? Please, Daddy, please? It can live my dollhouse."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see if Kitty caught it," Ellie said, sending him a pointed look. "You left Sarah in there to deal with it? That's not very manly, little brother."

"She's a big girl," he said, which was clearly the wrong thing to say, on so many levels. "She's okay," he amended. He turned his head, mainly to avoid his sister's glare, and raised his voice. "Are you okay in there, honey?"

The bathroom door opened and Sarah stepped out, busy tucking one end of the towel into the top wrapped tightly across her chest.

"That's real nice, Chuck. Sweet talk me now, _after_ you've seen – " She cut herself short when she spotted Ellie who slipped her hand over Maggie's eyes. "Uh, hi!" Sarah cleared her throat, probably because she sounded like a teenage girl at a Bieber concert. "Excuse me," she said, backtracking into the bathroom and closing the door almost all the way.

"Is Daddy gonna kiss Kitty again?" Maggie asked.

Ellie turned her niece by the shoulders, pointing her in the direction of the door. "I don't know what Daddy and Kitty are doing," she said as she marched the little girl out of the room, "but I do know that we probably shouldn't ask."

* * *

><p><strong>uthor's beta's 10-month-old son's note: <strong>asdascxzxcsaddscxasdwe

**A/N: **I think that's baby speak for "Happy Thanksgiving!" It's early, but I just want to say that I'm grateful for every review posted on this story, over 800 and counting. Wow! Thank you!

No promises or deadlines today as we've established that I suck at those, so for now, to quote my 3-year-old niece (who may or may not be the next Terminator): I'll be back.


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